Closer to the Truth
by BrandNewHappiness
Summary: It's been two years since Loki left New York in tatters. Now Jane and Thor are getting married, Darcy takes an unexpected trip into Asgard to celebrate, and finds herself drawn to the green eyed man in the cell of an Asgardian prison.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- So I decided to publish my very first fanfiction! I usually write and let them gather dust! I thought I'd publish it just before Thor 2 came out and wrecked the storyline somehow...**

**It's set 2 years after Avengers (just presume Thor 2 doesn't exist right now). The Bifrost is peachy again, and Jane and Thor are at it like rabbits. Hope you like! Oh, and I know hardly ANYTHING about the comics, and only a little about Norse Mythology so it's all movieverse... Pluuus- it may take a couple of opening chapters to get to Loki, but I promise you he'll be there- I have a few chapters all written and ready to go!**

**Reviews would be appreciated! Any grammar/spelling is because I'm crap at proofreading, eheh :)**

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**Chapter One:**

"Jane?" Darcy called out hesitantly into the lab. "Jane, you home?"

The silence greeted her and she rolled her eyes, knowing exactly where Jane was. Since they'd got the Tesseract back, Asgard had formed themselves a new Bifrost, meaning Jane had gone to visit Thor. Again. She'd been off and on Earth now for over 2 years, leaving Erik and Darcy to sort out SHIELD's less important work. Darcy spent her time printing out data and going over numbers on the SHIELD database after she'd graduated. Those last few credits had been hell to get, but she'd gotten them eventually, through 'extenuating circumstances' (aka, SHIELD writing to her university). Her tired sigh echoed around the empty glass lab.

Darcy dumped her bag on the side, and went to the kitchen to make herself some pasta. She'd just come back from New York where she'd been for a week, doing work for the famous Tony Stark himself. She laughed under her breath. On the one instance where she'd met him, he'd definitely lived up to all her expectations, calling her kiddo and being inappropriate in the worst of situations, getting hit or glared at by Pepper.

A bang on the door made Darcy jump out of her skin and spill her entire pan of pasta over the counter. "Shitballs." She exclaimed, looking down in annoyance. Abandoning it and dragging her tired legs to the door, she saw Erik grinning through the glass. Forgetting her tiredness, she flung the door open gleefully and leant on it, all casual.

"What's the matter Selvig?" She smiled. "Forget your keys?"

He sighed and pushed past her. "You know me nowadays Darce. I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on." With a shudder, the glee went out of his face as if he were remembering something. Darcy watched carefully, the smile fading. She shut the door behind her and followed him into the kitchen.

"Erik?"

He snapped out of it and smiled. "Were you making… pasta? At this time of night?" He looked at the mess now dribbling down the counter onto the floor. She grimaced, hoisting herself up on the counter opposite.

"Well, I was until you came and scared the bejeezus out of me!" She laughed. "I'll clean it up. I'm too tired to make anything anyway now. I need to sleep. Been working hard- too hard."

"Oh, yeah," he said, remembering, as Darcy gingerly picked the cold pasta up off the counter and floor. "You've been brushing shoulders with the celebrities, eh?"

"Ha! By brushing shoulders you mean being a coffee fetcher and photocopier!"

"Still, it makes a difference from sticking around here."

"That's for sure. Didn't think I'd actually be coming back, but I kinda miss the barren wasteland." She gestured into the dusky desert through the window with a dark laugh.

She grabbed the mop and started to squeeze the water off the floor. Erik wiped the counter for her and frowned. "Where's Jane?"

"Pft, where I'd be if I had a super-hot God boyfriend."

"Again?"

"Yup. I'm surprised he hasn't gotten bored by now, being a God and all."

Erik shot her a fatherly scowl and smiled. "You be kind Darce!"

She saluted him sarcastically and put the mop away. "Now, to sleep! See you in the morning." She'd been dying to crawl into bed and relax for a whole weekend now. The bed in the New York hotel didn't really get slept in, the amount of work she'd been doing. Plus, she'd gone for a couple of drinks with some SHIELD guys, leaving her drunk enough to pass out in the early hours of the morning only to get up at 7am and zombie her way to Stark Industries.

She'd only reached her room when Erik exclaimed, "they're back! Darcy, Jane and Thor want to tell you something!" He sounded excited.

She hung her head. As nice as it was to see Jane and Thor again after a couple of weeks, she'd much prefer her bed's company right now. It was nice. It didn't need her to listen and talk to it. She looked at the soft quilt longingly, and spun around to go back downstairs. "I'll be back baby." She said to her room. She smiled at Jane sat at the kitchen table with Thor (who she'd sworn had gotten taller). Pushing that thought (and all the other ones that followed it) out of her mind, she went to give Jane a hug. They both stood up in unison.

"Darce. We have to tell you something."

Oh Jesus. She was ready for the baby news any other day, just not now.

"Thor and I are getting married."

Her jaw dropped and she took a minute to comprehend what she was saying. "M-married? As in Thor's parents are okay with that sort of thing?"

"Well. They had… some prior feelings about it, but eventually they came to!"

"Oh my God Jane! Congrats!" She gave her another warm hug. "And you too!" she said looking up at Thor (away from the muscly chest, away from the arms, away from the… hammer). Thor did that laughing thing he always did, the one that was so bassy it shook the house and pulled her in for a restricting hug.

"Thank you Darcy."

"So… are we celebrating tomorrow night? Ladies night, Jane?" Darcy laughed.

"Actually Darce... How about we celebrate in Asgard tomorrow night?"

There was a noticeable pause before Darcy replied. "Asgard? I can come with?"

"Yeah! You, Erik and my parents are coming to my wedding, aren't you?"

"Sure! I'd love to!" Darcy did a little happy jump and clapped her hands together, squealing. "Agh." She stopped. "Tomorrow? So you're getting married tomorrow?"

"Noooo," Jane rolled her eyes. Darcy could clearly see she was enjoying this. "In three days. You can stay in Asgard for about a week. Depending on how you behave." She chided, pointing at Darcy like her mother used to.

"What are you talking about? I'm a saint." She laughed.

Thor turned around to Erik, who'd been surprisingly quiet all this time. He was twiddling his thumbs, looking downwards. "Erik, are you able to come with us? I would most definitely like your presence in Asgard, my home." Thor said delicately.

Erik looked up, his eyes full of pain. "Thor. I would go. You know I would. But you also know what's stopping me."

"Loki." Thor sighed. "I assure you Erik, he has been locked up these last 2 years, under the strictest supervision Asgard has to offer. He cannot harm you."

Erik smiled sadly. "I'm sorry Thor. I can't… I can't risk it. It's been 2 years since he messed around with my head, 2 years since he made me do what led to the deaths of hundreds of people. I… don't think I can be… that close to him again. Ever."

Thor smiled reassuringly and went over to pat Erik on the shoulder. "It is okay, Erik. I understand your anguish. My brot- Loki," he corrected himself painfully, "is paying for his crimes in the darkest cells of Asgard. Just think on that when you look back to all the wrong he did. I am truly sorry you feel this way."

Erik looked Thor in the eyes and saw the kindness in them that his brother's lacked. "I wish you and Jane the best, Thor. Really."

Thor laughed and suddenly gave Erik a rib cracking hug. Jane and Darcy, looking on in seriousness, were now laughing as Erik Selvig turned a bright red colour, either in embarrassment or strangulation, Darcy didn't know.

"Wait. Erik, if you're not coming then who's gonna hang with me in Asgard?" She pouted. Erik was just about to open his mouth when Thor cut him off.

"I'm sure you'll make a multitude of friends there Darcy, I will make sure of it." Thor smiled and put an arm around Jane.

"Really?"

"Really." He smiled, looking back at Erik twiddling his thumbs.

"Right. I need some beauty sleep if we're setting off tomorrow. Bit late notice, eh?" She nudged Jane playfully with her hip and practically skipped to the stairs up to her room.

"Sleep tight!" She heard in Jane's demanding motherly voice. "Pack your things before you fall asleep!"

"Suuure!" She shouted, slamming her bedroom door behind her, pulling off her shoes and falling straight into her pillows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch2.**

"Darce. Hey. Darcy Lewis." She felt a prod to her shoulder, then to her cheek, then to her thigh.

"Owwww. Jane." She emerged from the covers, hair everywhere and pyjama top hanging off her shoulders. She thought she felt like crap until looked into the fully make upped face of Jane Foster, and then she felt like utter shit.

"Darcy. You have an hour until the Bifrost opens. I thought you'd be ready! Get up, no time to shower." She pulled Darcy out of bed and flung some clothes at her. Darcy, still half asleep, threw them on and felt a harsh pain as Jane brushed through her hair.

"Janeeee." She mumbled, her voice gravelly from sleep. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I thought being 26 years old meant you could get up on your own, but obviously not."

She pushed Darcy into the bathroom, where she put on some make up. Her skin looked okay, but she put some foundation on anyway. After all, she betted all the girls in Asgard were stunning. Jane popped her head around the door and smiled as she watched Darcy almost put lip gloss on her eyelashes.

"I'm packing your bags. Is the purple top okay to pack?"

"Yeah, the one with the buttons. Pack my jeans!"

"No jeans. Haven't you got any formal dresses to pack?"

"There's the slutty one I wore for your birthday?"

"Nooo." Darcy could hear her cringing for the bathroom. "Haven't you got anything… Asgardian?"

"How the hell do I know what's Asgardian? You haven't given me time to buy new clothes!"

"Ooooh, what's this?"

Darcy stuck her head out of the bathroom door, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. "Really? That was my prom dress." It was a green silky ball dress, with a sweeping hem and a neckline that plunged down modestly into a v. It had a small corset back that hugged her curves and made Darcy look like a film star- something that she hated to look like most of the time, preferring her shapeless sweaters and jeans. "If you must. Oh. And pack my contacts."

She threw her contacts box at Jane and packed her toothbrush and cosmetics into a bag, then threw that too. Jane zipped her bag up and Darcy fell down onto the bed with a contented sigh. "Wow, I'm so glad people gave other people notice around here," she said sarcastically, giggling to the ceiling.

"Ah shut up you." Jane threw her bag at Darcy. "C'mon. Breakfast's ready, then Heimdallr is opening the Bifrost site at 10."

"Heimdallr?" Darcy asked, sitting up and putting socks on. She looked down at the clothes Jane had picked out for her. She'd chucked her a patterned slim fitting blouse and cardigan, with a cute (non-Darcy) black skirt and tights. "Oh. Did you pack my sexy underwear?" She winked. "You'll be getting some, but me? I'll definitely be on the prowl if everyone there looks as good as Thor." She put her glasses on.

"Ha! You'll be glad to hear they do. And Heimdallr is like, a watcher. He lets people in and out, and observes. He's like…an intergalactic security guard."

"Hmm." As she pulled on her favourite leather ankle boots, a thought came to her. "Jane. Are you moving to Asgard for good after you marry then?"

Jane froze, Darcy's black heels in her hand. She sat down on the bed "I… I was going to talk about this when we got there."

Darcy sunk down beside her and put her hand over Jane's. Jane sighed.

"I'm staying there."

Darcy forced herself to laugh, but inside she wanted to cry. Jane had stuck with her through everything, and despite Darcy insisting that she needed college credits, she just wanted to talk to the woman who had befriended her in her darkest time. Jane didn't know that she was the one who gave Darcy strength to get over her problems, and Darcy had kept it at the back of her mind. After all, everyone she'd loved had let her down at some point and Jane and Erik were all she had left of her family.

"Of course you are." She giggled, not realising the tears cascading down her cheeks.

"Oh Darce." She pulled her into a hug. "Darcy. Don't cry. You'll start me off, too."

"I'm not crying," she choked. "I'm happy for you, I really am, but I'm gonna miss you and the stud muffin."

She pulled back and they both giggled at each other. Darcy adjusted her crooked glasses "Anyway." Darcy said, regaining her composure, "you'll be a Queen won't you? Plus there'll be mini Thors and Janes running about in no time."

Jane looked horrified. "God. Let's not have that talk, yet."

"C'mon. Heimdallr will be waiting on us." Jane dumped Darcy's heels in her humongous bag, which Darcy slung over her shoulder, trusting Jane had packed all her things.

They stood nervously at the Bifrost site, looking up to the skies. Jane's parents, who drove straight to the site, were greeted with nervous 'hi's' and 'hello's'. They joined them, all looking up at the sky, waiting in trepidation. Jane's mother looked exactly how Darcy had pictured Jane in 30 years- slender and graceful, with dark brown hair just greying, waving down onto her narrow shoulders. Her father was a feminine man, with laugh lines and a receding hairline. He shook Thor's hand with a familiar smile.

"Heimdallr, open the bridge." Thor's booming voice was subdued, and he snuck a glance at Jane's parents, who honestly looked scared to death. Darcy started to chuckle at the awkwardness, when the sky opened up and a force pulled her from all angles. She wanted to scream but she couldn't breathe. Darcy looked over at Thor and Jane, who seemed graceful in their flight. Her parents were taking it well enough, but Darcy felt like she could throw up.

Darcy saw the glittering bride coming toward her, and caught a glimpse of Asgard's beautiful golden glowing spires before she blacked out.

After what felt like a lifetime, her eyes opened slightly. People were arguing. No, she corrected herself. They were discussing something heatedly.

"We can't put her in there!" She heard.

"Why not? The place is full of guests. There's no room."

She tried to speak up, to stand up, but when she lifted her head, her eyes rolled back and she fell into darkness again.

_Great going, Darcy. You really arrived in style. _

She woke up feeling groggy and dizzy. The room was bright and airy and she squinted at the light. She laid on a double, four poster bed with elaborate, beautiful emerald curtains. Everything was beautiful in this room, from the majestic arched windows, to the warm woollen rugs on the stone floor. It looked like something from a different era. She sighed - of course it looked different. She was in _Asgard_ of all places, a different realm. And she'd passed out in front of all the welcoming Asgardians.

Darcy got up and buried her head in her hands, her face burning red. "Fuckballs." Her voice muffled against her hands. "Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now."

With that motivation, she pushed down her first memory here, and rushed to the window, to see what Asgard _really_ looked like. She gasped as she took in the view for the first (second) time. Everything was shining and modern, but old fashioned at the same time. The sky was a plethora of colour, with beautiful blues and purples, reflecting off the golden spires. In the distance, she could see the Bifrost, emitting a spectacular blue glow at the end of the sparkling glass-like bridge. Underneath it, clear water flowed endlessly and melodically into a deep chasm. It was beautiful. Full of colour and grandeur, she'd never seen anything like it- not in photos or photoshopped pictures on her tumblr.

She grasped the cold stone windowsill in reassurance that she was _here_, in _Asgard_. Home to the Aesir and _Gods_. Actual living _Gods_. She put her back to the window, suddenly overwhelmed. That didn't help. The room she was in was stunning, too. The massive bookshelves covered most of the walls, with a grand chandelier dangling its crystals, which seemed to have a gorgeous, supernatural glow about them. She traced her fingers over the leather bound looks, and shivered. Dark, wooden tables and drawers with elaborate carvings were scattered around, and there was a small leather chaise longue with the same carvings. The bathroom was hidden behind a modest screen, with a spectacular waterfall-type shower and golden bath that could double up as a small swimming pool.

"Phew." Darcy needed to sit down. But she suppressed the lure of the luxurious emerald silk duvets and went to find the others.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Thanks for all the follows, favourites and reviews! You guys make my day! Chapter 3, as promised... And finally, Loki's on the scene! A longer chapter this time. ****Finally decided which way this story is going too!**

**This is my first published story- Let me know what you think! Improvements, etc are more than welcomed!**

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_**Chapter 3. **_

She didn't need to go far. As soon as she was out of the door, a beautiful Asgardian woman with a dark brown braid and a kindly soft face stopped her. Her face was familiar, but not immediately recognisable. "Lady Darcy." She did a bit of a curtsey.

"Just Darcy," she said, her face reddening at the formality. Hardly a Lady, she thought, looking down at herself with a hidden snigger.

"Then I am 'just' Sif," she smiled. Her face lit up, and her chocolate brown eyes glinted. Darcy had been through an experimenting stage in her younger days. Had she still been at that stage, she'd have definitely made a move on this woman. Sif was otherworldly beautiful, her hair shiny and her body was slim and lean. She felt a pang in her stomach when she thought of her ordinary reflection in the mirror. Asgard was definitely a place for the beautiful species. With a jolt, she remembered why her face was familiar. She'd seen her once, when Sif travelled with the warriors to rescue Thor in New Mexico. It had been a while since then, and naturally, Darcy had forgotten.

"Where are Jane and Thor?" She asked.

"They're in a meeting with the King and Queen, and Mr and Mrs Forster." Her voice changed whilst trying to pronounce Mister and Missus like it was a foreign word (which, to her, it must've been). They called people 'Lady' or 'Lord' here, straight out of a British period drama like Downton Abbey or something.

"Oh. Of course." _Of course._ Darcy had known she was coming here as a third wheel. Or a guest of honour. Either one, depending which way she looked at it. "I am so sorry." She gushed, typical Darcy style, words falling out of her mouth with no filters. "I felt a little bit spaced out when we were travelling and then –BAM- I hit Asgard turf and I blacked out in front of _everyone_. I'm so stupid."

Sif laughed musically. "Oh, Darcy. Do not worry. The first time Thor travelled by Bifrost, he had unintentionally hit himself with Mjolnir when we journeyed, and when we landed, he could not stand straight!"

Darcy burst out laughing. "Thor? Seriously?" She sighed. "So I didn't make too much of a fool of myself? I heard arguing."

Sif's smile wiped off her face in a flash. "It wasn't you, Darcy. We had not anticipated your arrival, as Jane had told us only her parents were attending. So naturally, the castle's rooms are full with wedding guests coming from all branches of Yggdrasil for the union."

"Oh. Well, if that's a problem, I can always haul ass back to Midgard. Honestly." Darcy looked back at the room she woke up in. "So is this your room? It's really pretty."

Sif's eyes blazed, and for a split second, she looked furious. "It's not my room." Darcy took a cautious step backwards.

"Um. Sorry? What?"

"Even you may encounter a problem with the room if I told you it is Loki's old chambers."

Darcy's jaw dropped open for the second time in two days. "Oh… Loki's?" He must've been locked up somewhere, his stuff gathering dust for 2 years. She suddenly felt sick about how beautiful she found it when she woke up. Loki had lived in this room, he had decorated it with the things she had found stunning and magnificent. Sif noted her step back and smiled reassuringly.

"Darcy. If you have a problem with living here for the duration of the wedding, there are still rooms outside the castle, though inconvenient."

"No," she found herself saying. "It's not the room that decided to trash New York, attempt to enslave a race and fratricide. Besides, I don't want to be a problem." _Further problem_, she thought, annoyed. _Why had Jane forgotten to mention she was on the guestlist? _She did seem a bit bogged under lately, with SHIELD on her ass all the time, not to mention zapping from Asgard to Midgard every two seconds to visit the in-laws.

Sif smiled, breaking her out of her thoughts. "You have an excellent point." Sif went to walk away when Darcy called her back. "Wait! What am I supposed to do now?"

"I have my duty now. Feel free to explore the castle to your hearts delight. You'll know where you're not permitted entry, but the castle is relatively open." She turned to leave again and paused, remembering something. "Oh. Here. I almost forgot. If you get lost, use this to take you back. You need only think of your destination inside the castle grounds and it will transport you there." She pressed a cold object into Darcy's hand, smiled knowingly and vanished down the corridor, leaving Darcy by herself, surrounded by Loki's belongings.

And the strange gem in her hand attached to a silver chain. It was a beautiful colour. Well, _colours._ The same colours as the Asgardian sky, like they'd condensed into a crystal. It was a small pebble-type thing; smooth and circular, glittering. She moved it through the light, and admired it as the fog inside it seemed to move as if it were alive. She automatically put it around her neck, admiring it in the reflection of a mirror as it sparkled. There were too many mirrors here- but Darcy realised that if she was as stunning as these Asgardians, they wouldn't be able to tear herself from her reflection.

She looked back into the room with a shiver and felt curiosity pull her in again. Instead of swiping her fingers across the leather books, she looked at the titles with unrestrained curiosity. Most of them were history, some of them magic and some of them had no title at all. The monster that had devastated New York had been here, touched and read those books, looked out of the same window and slept in the same bed. She shuddered again, feeling strangely conflicted.

Wanting to get away from the books and magic of the room, she held the strange gem on her necklace. "How the hell is this supposed to work?" She muttered to herself. "Could've done with an instruction manual or something."

Feeling a burst of childish inspiration, she held it tight and thought her hardest, like she was in a movie. She felt lame and silly with her eyes screwed shut, squeezing on the gem as if she were trying to burst it. _Garden?_ The request was more like a question in her mind, and she opened her eyes to the soft wind rustling her hair. "Woah. Cool. Very 'Harry Potter,'" she giggled to herself.

It had worked. She looked around herself, immersed in what must've been the Palace gardens. It was beautiful, like everything here.

Suddenly, she felt an urge to explore more. Being naturally inquisitive (and unashamedly intrusive), Darcy went into all parts of the castle, sometimes coming across people who looked at her in confusion and shooed her away when she went into places she shouldn't have been in. She stopped in the dining room, laughing at how much fun invading people's privacy was. After spending the remainder of the day transporting and exploring, Darcy felt herself drained and sluggish. Nobody had told her _how_ the gem worked. Hell, no one had told her that it _would_ work. She figured Jane was busy, and the chances of her making a friend that wouldn't get offended by something she'd say here was less than zero. Her friends on Midgard cringed at the stuff she said- here in Asgard it would be twice as offensive.

As night fell, she felt the (sickening) desire to snuggle up to those silky sheets in her (Loki's) room and fall into a deep sleep. Sighing, she got ready to transport again, feeling a little ashamed that she found Loki's tastes akin to her own. Well aside from murder and world domination. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought hard. _Loki's room_.

_What?_ She thought as she opened her eyes. She thought she'd gone blind, and scuffled about in a panic, until her eyes adjusted to the light (or lack of). She heard a muffled cough, and followed the sound. _She shouldn't be here._ She knew it, but her curiosity got the better of her and she found her feet dragging her toward the noise, and the light. The cold stone floor echoed as her boots took step after step.

She halted when she heard a door slam, and a woman's voice. She hid herself in the shadows and held her breath. Her feet were planted to the floor and she froze, terrified.

The woman moved into the candlelight, and Darcy stifled a gasp at the familiar face of Frigga, her beautiful blonde hair spiralling up into an elaborate bun. She squinted, wishing she'd picked up her glasses before she left.

"Son." She said, her dress making an eerie sweeping noise every time she took a step. "Oh, Loki. You look worse."

_Loki? Shit. _She'd thought of Loki's room, and ended up being literally _in_ the room that Loki was in. She knew she shouldn't be here, but her eyes adjusted enough to make out Loki's pallor, pain-drawn face and held her curiosity. His cheekbones were more prominent than the pictures she'd seen in New York, and his skin seemed too tight on his face, as if he had been malnourished. He was sat in the very corner of the room, his slender body scrunched up in a protective position. Darcy looked on in confusion as she saw the face of Loki transform from a scared but defiant five year old into a look of relief and relaxation. What had come through that door in the past that caused _Loki_ of all people, to fear? His clothes were torn and wrinkled, his face slashed and dirty. His sunken green eyes tracked Frigga from across the room.

"Mother." He said. His voice was full of affection, though his face was unreadable.

Frigga knelt down next to her son and cradled him in her arms. Darcy watched in confusion as he closed his eyes and nestled into his mother's embrace. This definitely wasn't the same Loki Darcy had seen on TV, blowing up New York. He looked fragile, well past breaking point. How broken must he have been to actually accept affection?

"Loki, I can't see you like this anymore." Frigga's voice shook.

"It's all part of father's plan." He whispered, contempt in his voice. "I am a used up relic, a trophy from the war."

"You know that your father does everything for a reason."

He took this silently- only a sigh escaped from his chapped lips.

Darcy felt rude intruding on this obviously private moment, but too engrossed to leave. She liked watching the God who had wreaked such terror on Earth to be reduced to a whispering wreck. Part of her felt pity, but only a small part. Loki had deserved this pain. 2 years here was not enough to acquit him of his crimes. She thought of Erik, and how he shuddered to remember his time under the influence of this monster, even after two whole years."

Frigga sighed and let go of her son, gently pulling away. "_Your _actions have put you here, Loki."

"… I know."

With that, Frigga got up, and with one last painful look at her ragged son, she pulled open the door and left.

Darcy felt like it was time to go.

"Who's there?" Loki's demanding voice had her feet frozen to the spot. She should've transported the hell out of there that second, but instead she stepped into the half-light.

"Darcy. Darcy Lewis."

Loki leant back into the corner with a sigh. "A mortal in Asgard. How quaint."

Darcy narrowed her eyes. "A God in a prison cell. How uninspiring."

Loki looked mildly amused, as he usually did when insults were thrown his way. He didn't have the strength to move his body, but his facial expression conveyed the message.

"A little lost are we?"

"You think I came here on purpose? I could think of other places where I'd like to be other than here."

"Yet you're still here. Remind me how that came to be?"

Darcy's hand went to touch the gem around her neck.

"Ah." Loki said in understanding. "Mortals and magic."

"You…" Darcy took a step forward. "You look like shit." She finished, wishing she had said something intellectual. Even half-dead, Loki still managed to remain eloquent and witty.

"I think 730 days in an Asgardian cell would have you looking rather… drab."

He'd even counted the days. She was surprised that there weren't tally marks on the walls. "Are they torturing you?" She blurted out.

"Would you like that?" Loki leered.

Darcy took a step back. "Not into that sort of thing, thanks." She knew he meant differently.

There was a moment of silence as Loki looked on, unimpressed and unfazed by her nervous joke.

"I had friends in New York." She said quietly, breaking the silence. It wasn't exactly a lie- they weren't her _friends_- more acquaintances than anything, but human life meant exactly the same. She walked up to him, feigning confidence, and knelt down where his mother had just knelt, looking at his broken form close up. Even his hair hung limp about his face, some of the strands looking as if they were seared off with heat. Darcy, even in this moment, couldn't help admiring his amazing bone structure.

"Ohhhh." He drew it out, an echoing hiss and leant toward her, invading her personal space. She stood her ground, knowing he was powerless. "_That_. Let me tell you something, Darcy." His voice twisted around her name like a poisonous snake. "The quarrel you seek is with the Chitauri, not with myself."

"Huh. So you didn't murder anyone?" She said sarcastically.

"I don't deny the act. Just the responsibility. But someone has to play the villain." He got quieter as he reached the end of the sentence. His narrow shoulders slumped, looking tired and dejected as he leant back again, into the corner. "I should have never underestimated influence." He muttered to himself.

"I saw how you acted with your mother. You have some compassion left, right?"

"It seems so." He answered immediately, shocking Darcy. She thought he'd deny it.

"So you actually love her? It's not a trick?" She was overstepping her boundaries now, and Loki must've thought it, too.

"Does everything I do _have_ to reek of mischief and hate?"

"You're the God of Mischief."

"And there you have your answer."

Suddenly she found herself annoyed. Annoyed at the fact people put him down, called him a monster and he didn't even stick up for himself, even though he seemed to think himself not entirely guilty.

"That's _my_ answer though. Why don't you stand up for yourself? You're acting like nothing ever touches you! You're so… calm and collected. It's creepy."

Her voice rose to a half-shout, still cautious of who may be listening outside. After Loki looked at her blankly, she stood up and turned to leave. There would be no point talking sense into someone who has lost all will to live. She felt long, paper thin fingers grip her hand as she got up, pulling her back down again.

"Will you return?" His voice had gone back to the whisper he had used with his mother. It lacked compassion and feeling, but Darcy felt her heart tighten when she looked into his blank, dull green eyes framed by dark, thick lashes. She found herself nodding as something changed inside of her. The thin, frail fingers released their grasp on her arm, trailing down to her wrist and away from her.

She touched the gem again and thought _Loki's _former_ room._ She knew it had worked when she felt the air grow warmer, and the environment less sinister. She opened her eyes to Loki's room, and felt herself grow cold again. She was supposed to hate him. Hell, she _did_ hate him. But she still felt compelled to go back to that bleak room to talk nonsense with a man who had no feelings or conscience or any desire to explain himself. Cryptic bastard, she thought bitterly.

It didn't stop her from going back the next day, when everything had died down, and Jane was busy in sorting the final touches for the wedding with the family. She'd taken a shower, brushed her teeth and hair. She dug through her things to find a pair of jeans. Damn Jane, she thought. She'd packed anything _but _jeans. Flinging on a button-down checked jersey dress and some leggings, she picked up her glasses and her hand went to the gem around her neck.

It had been a short and sweet conversation- mostly arguing on Darcy's half, and amused sarcastic replies on his half. She felt as though she was psychoanalysing him, asking him questions to do with his 'bag full of cats' brain. When she had arrived, he looked up in what she thought was eagerness, but a blink later, and his face was unreadable again. She admitted he was more open with her than she had anticipated. Maybe he _wanted_ to talk.

"Your brother is getting married tomorrow." She said, sitting on the hard floor next to him, cross legged. She played with her hair, still wet from the shower. "To my friend, Jane."

"He's not my brother." He muttered, before looking up. "That's why my mother was here yesterday. She wanted to invite me."

"To the wedding? Ha, looking like you do, you could probably be a zombie extra."

"I do not understand your stupid jokes," he said flatly, as if he was thoroughly pissed off.

"Hm. So are you actually coming?"

"They're cleaning me up tomorrow to make me look _presentable_," he spat.

Darcy shrugged. "Of course they will. All the worlds-"

"Realms."

"All the _realms _will want to know where you've been these past 2 years. Whether you're a new man."

"I am the same I as ever was, just more tired." He admitted, then slunk back as if he'd said too much.

Darcy scoffed. "Tired? So you don't feel bad for what you did?"

"Will 'feeling bad' erase all of what I have done in the past?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Then I do not need to feel remorse. I just need to be a part of these people's retribution."

"So you're just taking the punishment?"

"What else can I do?"

"You can feel bad for what you've done. I dunno, maybe atone for your actions, or try making it right. Explain yourself."

"The moment I came back, I knew exactly where they were going to put me, and I did not fight it. There is no point in fighting once you've lost. Besides, I am not taking responsibility for New York."

"Not taking responsibility?" She looked at him hard.

He looked back, and she felt as if she needed to look away – those eyes, though dead and dull now, still felt piercing. "It is hard to be in control of your actions when your fate is decided for you by others. A helpless puppet on a string."

"Quit the riddles, Loki, tell it straight."

"Why should I? No one believes me except my mother, and even she is repulsed by my true nature. You know what I am. You've accepted that truth, as has everyone else. Me being a monster is just a bonus."

Darcy sighed, feeling a little sorry for him and his labels. She shook her head and tried to forget that last thought. She could never feel sorry for a murderer, not even one that looked like a sad, lost puppy. But even then, the puppy you trusted could grow up and maul you to death. _Nice and dark, Darce. _She gladly pulled herself out of her thoughts.

"I'm leaving. Jane is probably wondering where I am." She stood up. "A little advice to you though. If you really want people to change their views about you, number one: stop murdering people. Number two: if they get it wrong, correct them- don't hold back on details. They all think you're who you are now because you haven't bothered to correct them."

"A bit late now." Loki said with a scoff.

"Hmm."

"Will you be here tomorrow?" He said, not looking up.

"Do you want me to be?" She looked hard at the pile of skinny rags in the corner.

It took him a while, but he managed a nod. Her lips pulled up into a small, sad smile and she found herself in her room again.

It was only minutes later when Darcy heard a quiet knock on the door. She flung it open to find Jane beaming from ear to ear. Darcy was thankful she came back just in time- she wasn't about to tell Jane about her pet villain. "How are you feeling?"

Darcy smiled back the best she could. "Super. When do we eat? I'm starving" It felt like she'd been here years. One thing she missed was snacking in between meals, not used to this set breakfast, lunch and tea lark. However, having servants to do stuff for her was a redeeming feature.

"I was just about to grab you and get you ready for dinner. Apparently everyone will be having dinner in the grand hall tonight. Oh, Darcy, I've met loads of legendary people these past two days. Gods, I mean. Actually talking to me like I'm important. And tomorrow…"

Darcy leant against the doorframe, grinning. "Tomorrow you get to be part of all this, right?"

Jane let out a quivering sigh. "I don't know Darce. I'm not ready for this."

"You love Thor, right?"

"Of course I do."

"Then you're ready. You'll be fine."

Jane gave Darcy an unexpected hug. "Thank you."

"Also..." She looked behind her into Darcy's room. Darcy moved out of the way and let her in, watching her as she took in her surroundings. "Are you sure you're fine in here?"

"It's just a room, Jane. Don't sweat it."

"It's just… It's creepy in here."

Darcy looked around her, feeling a familiar shiver up her spine. It was beautiful in here, she had thought before. Non-threatening. She found herself frowning.

"Creepy?"

Jane nodded. "You don't think so?"

Darcy shrugged. "I don't care. The bed is more than comfy, the shower works like a dream. Everything is hunky-dory. Now take me to food, woman." She dragged Jane out of the room, laughing, trying to forget the image of a broken Loki in the prison cell just minutes before.


	4. Chapter 4

_****_**A/N- Again, thank you for the feedback! Just a short chapter before the juicy bits get here! I really hope you're enjoying it- I'm certainly loving writing it at the moment! 5,000 words in one sitting?! **

** Recently read an interesting piece by amidtheflowers on An Archive of Our Own called "The Art of Mishap: An Examination of Tasertricks Fanfiction and Loki's Psyche". (****Check it out, it's...enlightening to say the least for us Darcy/Loki shippers!)** Long story short, it got me thinking about Loki's character, and his past actions, and how everyone just forgives him really easily in some stories... So prepare for Darcy being confused/conflicted. But hey! FF is a bit of fun (for me, anyway), so I'll try keep it relatively angst-free, obviously ! :)

**Sorry for the essay! On with Chapter 4!**

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_**Chapter 4**_

Darcy woke up next morning, tangled in silk sheets with no idea how she had gotten there. Asgardian wine was definitely dangerous, she thought with a dull ache in her head. The last she remembered was trying to drink Volstagg under the table. Apparently, that hadn't worked. But it didn't matter- everyone was roaring drunk at the feast. After all, it had been the night before Thor and Jane's wedding. She didn't even want to know what the actual _wedding_ would be like.

"Shit." She cursed, dizzily standing up and clutching the bookshelf for support. It was Jane's wedding today, and she needed to be there for her. She could easily see Jane clutching at her face, stressing out on what to do, what to wear. Jane had always been like a mother to Darcy, and Darcy felt it was about time she should return the favour. She showered and got dressed into her dark purple shift dress (sexy underwear underneath), brushed through her hair and put a bit of make up on. It had amazed her how perfect the women were here. Like a land of flawless celebrities.

She clutched the gem that still hung around her neck, then paused. She remembered the conversation with Loki, realising she had promised to go back for the third time before the wedding. She held the gem tight. _Loki's room._ She found herself, again, in the company of a monster without really realising what she was doing.

"Loki?" She called out cautiously. She took a step into the candlelight again and surveyed the sleeping man, his lanky frame slumped in the corner, his expression far from blissful sleep. "Loki."

She prodded him cautiously. He stirred, and looked at her with scared eyes. "Who were you expecting?" She said, eyebrows raised as his expression sunk back to his normal, bored look.

"You came back." He said, simply. Not with gratitude, but as if it was a fact.

"I said I would."

"You did. But you know not to wake a sleeping dragon."

At this, Darcy began to laugh. "A dragon?! Have you looked at yourself lately?"

"Always about appearance, are we, mortal?" His voice still carried a groggy, sleepy tone.

"Why do you ask me to come back?" Darcy asked, intrigued.

Loki looked at her and sighed. "The entertainment is lacking. The only visitor I get is my mother."

"So you're lonely?" Darcy said, half mocking.

Loki narrowed his eyes. "I may have lost my liberty, but I have not lost my brain nor my fury."

"Well, let me know when you're attempting a Shawshank, and I'll get out of your way, sharpish."

She heard approaching footsteps, and panicked, looking at Loki's amused face.

"I'll see you soon, I expect." Loki muttered as she vanished, only to arrive outside Jane's room, her heart beating like a drum.

She looked at the thick wooden door, not wanting to interrupt anything, but, being Darcy, she knocked and then strolled right in.

"Darcy!" Jane's voice was a caution. Darcy put her hands over her eyes but the image was imprinted onto her retinas. _Eww. _Mind you, she knew a couple of people who'd pay to see what she just saw. Sign of her questionable acquaintances, she thought wryly.

"Oh, shit! Sorry." Darcy went to back out of the room, when she bumped into another person right behind her. Spinning around, she saw Fandral, one of the warriors three, an awkwardly horrified look on his face. "Come to see the show, too?" She laughed, and pushed him out into the corridor, closing the door right behind them.

It took Jane 3 minutes and 48 seconds to answer the door- Darcy counted with a smile on her face. Fandral frowned at her counting, wondering what Midgardian behaviour this was. Still he kept quiet- probably in embarrassment.

"Darcy. Fandral." Jane poked her head out of the door, flustered. Darcy just grinned at her and raised her eyebrows. Fandral spoke first, wanting to talk with Thor. Jane let him in and turned on Darcy. "Couldn't you have knocked?"

"I did. Then I let myself in. I didn't know you were going to be indulging in a bit of morning sex." She nudged Jane playfully until she smiled.

"What are you doing here?"

"I figured we'd have ourselves some mental prep time. How long do you have?"

Jane looked at her watch. "Oh. About 5 hours till the actual wedding. It's Asgardian custom to marry when the sun is about to go down. Don't even ask me why."

"Why?" She said with a sly smile on her face. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Honestly, I'm pretty calm after you talked to me."

"Well, you know. When I go back, maybe they'll give me a Psychiatrist job. I'm good at talking to the nutcases." She knew she meant that in more than one sense, thinking back to Loki.

As if Jane had read her mind, she closed the door behind her softly and began to walk Darcy down the corridor.

"Darcy." She began tentatively.

"Jane?"

"I'm worried about something."

"What is it?" Jane's hesitance made Darcy uncomfortable.

"There's going to be an extra guest at the wedding. As per Frigga's request. And Thor's."

Darcy let out a sigh, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Let me guess…" Thinking of her _favourite _pet prisoner, she said with resignation, "Loki."

"Yeah… him. I'm worried that him being there might make things… awkward."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of him."

"_You_ will?" Jane stopped walking to look at her.

Darcy swallowed. _Shit._ Now she needed to tell all to Jane, and she wasn't sure what to say. _"Oh, I just happened by an Asgardian prison and talked to one of the inmates. I'm sure he's a nice guy when he's not blowing up New York or trying to enslave a race. Oh, and I've been to see him 3 times, so I can't really call it an accident anymore."_

Instead, she lied. "You know. I'm good at psychopaths."

Jane exhaled, relieved. "Thanks."

"Anyway," she said brightly, doing a little twirl in the corridor. "Enough of unwanted wedding guests. Where's your dress, your stuff?"

"Frigga is having it sent to me. I honestly have no idea what I'm wearing."

"Are you serious?" Darcy's jaw dropped as they climbed a spiral staircase.

"Yep. Another Asgardian thing. I need to be there in an hour for hair and make-up."

"It's taking them _4 hours_ to do your hair and make-up? God forbid I ever get married."

"Have you even seen the women round here? They're like… perfect."

Darcy huffed. "And so are you. Stop having an inferiority complex. Have you seen the way Thor looks at you? No competition."

"Really?" Jane looked smug. Then the smugness vanished only to be replaced by horror. "I need to shower. I need to get my parents. I need to-"

"Woah, woah, woah there Jane. I thought you were calm?"

"Yeah. Calmness." She hyperventilated, then sat on the window ledge, head in her hands.

"I'll go get your parents if you want."

"No, it's okay. I need to have a word with my dad anyway. He seems to think it's funny to joke around with _Odin_ of all people. I don't think he realises he's a _God_." She chuckled nervously.

"Ha. At least you weren't the one getting drunk with Volstagg."

Jane flashed her a smile and hopped off the window ledge. "I guess I'll see you at sundown. I'll be the one wearing white." She did a double take. "…Maybe. I don't even know."

Darcy stopped and hugged Jane, hard. "You'll do great."

She watched her friend walk back the way they came, with a sinking feeling in her heart coupled with a pang of loneliness.

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**See you in a bit- Jane and Thor's wedding, coming up!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - Finally! The Wedding! I'm not going to lie, I did grin like a maniac writing this. I had so much fun the wedding chapter became part 1 and 2, and the plot finally surfaced after all that set up! Part 2 will follow soon...**

**A massive shout out to everyone who has followed/favourited/reviewed- I wouldn't be writing this far without you guys! Special thanks to the feedback given by butterflyscythe7, kittyhawk09, RhizOneill, Eithne9, Gyoro and Ururun, jaquelinelittle and the mysterious guest, you've given me the push to get chapters written and published!  
**

**Anyway, on with the wedding! **

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_**Chapter 5**_

Jane looked more than beautiful heading down the aisle. The mystery dress was a pure white silk thing that draped beautifully over her slender frame, accentuating her tiny waist, the white contrasting against her glowing skin. It was woven with stunning gold threaded seams. In typical Asgardian fashion, they'd managed to sneak bands elaborate gold around her neck, her waist. They were cut beautifully, like spiralling but sturdy artwork. Thor was dressed in his usual gear, but less 'battle' more 'dinner with the parents'. His cape was still there, a heavy dark red contrasting with his dark grey armour and leather. He wore woven wool that covered his arms. His vanbraces had disappeared, as had much of his steel armour in favour of soft leather.

It was amazing though. Darcy hated weddings, but made a special exception for this one. The sun shone through the tall, cathedral-like windows of the hall, casting a glittering orange glow on everything. The place was packed with tons of people- Darcy realised that Sif wasn't lying when she said guests were coming from all branches of Yggdrasil. There were some inhuman-looking people, with strange skin or weird looking eyes, like something out of Darcy's sci-fi books.

She smiled when Jane caught her eye as she walked down the aisle with her father, and winked. Thor's expression was the mirror image to Jane's genuine, radiant smile. Darcy's heart tightened and she screwed up her face trying not to cry. After all, it would completely mess with her reputation- and her contacts and make-up, which she put on so carefully, picking out her favourite red lipstick and dark eyeliner.

Asgardian ceremonies were shorter than Midgardian ones. There was no messing about or singing hymns and listening to speeches. They literally said the words and got it over and done with. Good job, too. As beautiful as it was, Darcy could only tolerate a certain amount of staring from Loki's direction on the opposite side of the hall. He looked a lot healthier than before though his pale skin was harsh against his grey leather and steel. A lot taller, too. He'd done away with his big metal braces and shoulder pads, like his brother had, and this made him look even slimmer. She couldn't help thinking he, despite his tall frame, looked smaller. She caught his amused eye a couple of times, only to scowl and look away, admiring Jane and Thor who were now wrapped in a long and slightly inappropriate embrace.

The couple walked out amidst thousands of shouts and clapping and thrown golden confetti. _Poor Jane_. They now had to get in a carriage and do a Royal Procession through the city, where tons of people lined the streets to get a glimpse of the couple. And whilst they were doing that, they all got to start drinking and partying. The feast would only start when they got back, and Darcy felt her stomach rumble and sighed internally.

The crowd in the hall broke up, and a few followed into the reception, held in a smaller, but still as grand hall next door. She heard some soothing classical-type music coming from the side of the hall, played by a set of stunning Aesir with strange instruments. It was more amazing than anything she'd heard back home. She felt someone match her stride, brushing her shoulder in the masses. Knowing who it would be, she met the eyes of Loki Laufeyson without surprise.

"You made it." She said sarcastically, well aware of the eyes watching them both as people took their seats. Odin and Frigga looked on from the high table, worried, but Darcy tried to stay as reassuringly casual as possible. The rest of the guests were muttering about the special guest appearance, but Loki didn't seem fazed- or if he did, he was hiding it well.

"Yes, it would seem so." His eyes looked a brighter green, and all the cuts and bruises had healed, except from some small scars dotted around his mouth. He looked otherworldly handsome, just like the other Asgardians, but his glowing eyes and jet black hair set him apart from the kind-looking Aesir with golden hair and blue eyes. But Loki wasn't even Aesir. He was Joten, the 'blue ice dudes' as Darcy called them when Jane had told her.

"You look… better." She said lamely. She cursed herself for checking him out.

"As do you." He raised his eyebrows, his glance lazily surveying her from head to toe. "For a mortal." He added. She wore her dark green silk dress, the one that sucked in her stomach, hugged her curves and let everyone see more than a glimpse of her breasts thanks to the scooping neckline. It looked ridiculously over the top back home, but here it looked like the norm. Hell, she even felt scruffy. She'd replaced her glasses for contacts, feeling oddly bare without them. She made up for her glasses in jewellery though- she wore the gem Sif had given her, with a bracelet and ring her grandmother had left her.

She hugged her pale arms around her protectively. "Thanks, I guess. I was kinda referring to your…" She wildly gestured at his face. "… Injuries. Five or six hours and you're as good as new."

He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. They'd reached the reception hall full of tables, and in the middle, a massive space cleared for dancing. Darcy had hated dancing ever since prom, when the guy she'd gone with was found dancing with another guy when she went to go get drinks. She'd really liked him, too. Shame he wasn't really interested in her gender.

She did the rounds with Sif, who introduced her to Gods and Elves from places like Alfheim, Vanaheim and places she couldn't even try to pronounce. She tried not to stare at their inhumanly bright eyes or strange teeth. They didn't seem too impressed with her, until one of them asked if she had Aesir blood. Taking it as a compliment, Darcy kindly put them right- she was from Midgard, completely human. A few complimented her on her beauty, but after that, they asked her odd and intrusive questions about her lifespan.

She felt their scrutinising gazes switch from her to Loki. He was leant against a stone pillar behind the warriors three, who were greeting passers-by. Their gazes were part fear, part revulsion as they stole quick glances at the black haired guest.

Shrugging the guests off with a vague excuse and leaving Sif talking with a hot Elven warrior, she went to sit at a random table, but felt a hand pull her up before she sat down. Loki's grip was tight. He scowled. "We have set places, Lady Darcy." He said, his tone sarcastic and mocking.

"Get off my arm." She said harshly, jerking her arm away from his in panic. She was rewarded with a quick flash of surprise on his face, mixed with what she thought was hurt. He let go with a scowl. She stumbled across the room, following Sif (who must've abandoned the poor Elf dude). Loki trailed behind as if he was scared to be near anyone just in case his touch got misinterpreted as trying to murder them. _Enough with that thinking_, Darcy scolded herself. _You're on Thor's, Jane's, Odin's, _humanity's _side. Stop feeling sorry for him. _

Sif smiled at Darcy, and gave Loki a dirty look. "Here's your place."

"Thanks." Darcy lowered herself carefully onto the chair, making sure her tight dress didn't rip or malfunction in any way, shape or form. Success. She could sit down.

She saw Odin, Frigga, Mr and Mrs Foster and some unfamiliar faces on the high table, realising she'd been lowered in the ranks, and she wouldn't get to talk to Jane, or tell her how fabulous she looked. Darcy sighed, and looked around at the names on the place cards, written in stunning golden calligraphy.

Half of the names she couldn't even pronounce, and the others she recognised in passing. She definitely thought it was a bad idea that Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg were sat with her, but at least she had Sif to chat with and maybe regain a bit of composure. She enjoyed the relaxed company of the Warriors three, maybe not so much Hogun, who didn't talk much. And lastly, she saw Loki's name. He settled down beside her, looking bored as usual, playing with his namecard, flicking it round his nimble fingers. She almost asked if he'd been relegated from high table, but realised that subject might be a little touchy.

Sif sat down on the other side of Loki, her warrior stance definitely present. No doubt the warriors had been asked to keep an eye on him. She poured herself wine from a jug in the middle. "Here, Darcy." She passed her a glass.

"Are you sure it's okay to drink and stuff before they come back? I mean, it's their wedding…"

Sif laughed. "It is fine. They won't return for another ten minutes or so. I think they won't have to catch up to too much."

"Sweet." She said, clinking her glass in 'cheers' with Sif. Then she remembered the piggy in the middle.

"Aren't you drinking, Loki?"

He studied her, tilting his head before looking away silently.

"So you're not talking?" She huffed, watching some more Aesir sit at their table. "You seemed more than happy to talk earlier."

"Earlier?" He said, his hand a fist under the table. "You mean in my cell?"

Sif put a hand to her mouth. "You didn't…"

Darcy wanted to punch him. "It was the gem thing. I made a mistake, and poof! I was in some awful prison with an awful person." She glared at him childishly.

"Awful person?" Loki muttered. He looked confused at her explanation. Hadn't she sought him out on purpose?

Sif looked troubled, and Darcy suddenly felt guilty as Sif's eyes flashed up to Odin and Frigga. "Sorry, Sif, it was an accident, I swear. Why would I be looking for him?"

"To procure revenge for your realm?" Sif said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Can we not talk about that?" Loki's voice was measured, and a little pained, still staring. "I ruined Thor's coronation, I will not be the one ruining his wedding feast."

"Oh, look who sprouted a heart."

"Torture does that to you." Loki said through his teeth, staring across the room.

Sif and Darcy exchanged looks. Darcy was pretty sure that torture took the heart out of you, not put it back in. Loki's mind must work in mysterious ways, she thought, confused. All of a sudden, Odin was behind Darcy, his heavy hand resting on her shoulder. Her body went stiff in shock, aware of the casual touch of a King on her shoulder.

"Are all of you faring well? Thor and Jane are returning. Get ready to toast. Loki- a word." He gestured to Loki, and led him to the side of the room. Sif and Darcy watched his face turn from bored, to interested, to incredulous.

"Um. What was that?" Darcy asked when Loki gracefully lowered himself into the chair beside her and Sif.

"Apparently this reception will double up as my release."

"You're getting freed?" Darcy didn't really know how to react. "How come?"

Loki shrugged, a small smile on his face.

"Is that smile a 'I'm-gonna-murder-everyone' smile, or a 'I'm-so-happy-to-be-back-in-society' smile?"

"Neither." He pressed his glass to his lips, his face unreadable again. "Tony Stark never actually let me have that drink." He said to himself on a side note, staring into his glass.

Sif scoffed. "The Allfather is probably hoping the news of his release will be drowned out under the talk of this wedding."

Darcy saw Loki's fists clench under the table. Her response was drowned out by the cheers coming from the entrance where Thor and Jane had made it back. Jane looked flustered and happy, overwhelmed by the people demanding their attention. She tightened her grip on Thor's hand as they entered the hall, her small fingers lost in his. Darcy clapped and cheered as they sat down, and the courses arrived on silver platters almost immediately.

Darcy wasn't even going to be a lady about it. She was about to eat everything they gave her, but then stopped promptly, remembering she wasn't exactly in stretchy clothing. She put down her fork and belched in time with Volstagg. She could get used to this part of Asgardian culture. "Pardon."

"Are you eating that?" Loki's quiet voice tickled her ear as he leant in.

She shivered. "No. Here. You want it?"

He reached over to take her plate, and it was only then she realised how stick thin he looked. Could you starve a God? He wouldn't die, would he? She shook that line of thought out of her head, knowing it would lead to her asking about Asgardian torture methods- hardly a subject to be discussing at a wedding.

Jane waved at Darcy from the high table. She waved back and smiled. Jane, in response, pointed to Loki and grimaced, mouthing 'sorry'. Darcy shrugged with a grin. She was trying to sign language 'you look really pretty' to her when Loki leaned in again. "Is it so hard to go up there and talk to her?"

"You can do that?"

He nodded silently over her leftover plate of potatoes and exotic meat from animals she didn't know existed. She slowly got up, and looked around her. Tons of people were milling around, talking to other tables, but no one went to Jane's table. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and wobbled up to the bride in her high heels.

"Hey Jane. Don't worry, not up here for long. Just came to tell you that you looked really pretty today, and you're definitely rocking the bridal look. Congratulations."

Jane smiled smugly. "Thanks Darce, you don't look too bad yourself. Saw some interested guys staring your way when you came up here."

Darcy raised her eyebrows and grinned. "Am I okay to come up here and talk to you? Loki said it would be fine, but then again, I trust him as far as I could throw him."

"Yeah, you're fine! You two seem to be getting on… well."

"I have a knack for the psychopaths remember?" She whispered in Jane's ear, so she didn't offend Loki's family, who just decided to release him for _not_ being a psychopath. Jane smiled sadly.

"Just… Watch out for him, okay?"

"As in look after him, or watch my back?"

"Both. Mostly the latter. Just… Babysit."

Darcy scoffed. "He's thousands of years old. Hardly a baby."

Jane laughed. As her father leant over to start a conversation with her and Thor, Darcy saw that as a signal to leave. She confidently strode back to her table, aware of the eyes watching her.

Volstagg's booming voice welcomed her. "Lady Darcy, you seem to have only had one glass of wine. Here."

He poured her another drink with a booming laugh. By the smell of him, he'd never stopped drinking. Still, in _Lady Darcy_ mode, she gave him a beaming smile and downed what he'd poured her. When the feast had finished and the last plates were taken away, Volstagg and Darcy were sat next to each other, laughing. Volstagg kept blabbing on about some mission whilst Darcy tried to keep her head up and her brain conscious. She couldn't stop giggling, either, and tried to mask each hiccup with a manly cough.

Sif had gone off with Fandral somewhere, and left Loki under the (not so) watchful eyes of Volstagg, who couldn't even sit straight, and Hogun, who was silently staring off into the distance in boredom. The other guests at the table had gone off to talk to their friends, and Darcy felt like she was part of the reject table (not for the first time in her life). Loki looked on, sipping wine from his cup with an amused expression on his face.

"… And then, BOOM, the bridge had collapsed, and poor Hogun was trapped on the other side!" He roared laughing at the memory, and Darcy put her head in her hands.

"I wish I was, like, _Asgard_ cool." She mumbled. "Like, full on Sif-style badass."

"Sif had to fight for her position. It is not easy for a woman to be a warrior." Loki butted in.

Darcy lifted her head up and looked at him with a puzzled expression. She looked over at Jane and Thor twirling in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by beautiful Asgardians in sweeping gowns and elaborate formal wear. Apparently, suits weren't normal apparel here, with most of the men wearing leather and woven clothing, with ornate metal fixings and buckles.

She smiled at the twirling figures, and excused herself to visit the toilet. All that wine had gone right through her and she needed somewhere to stop and pull her drunken self together before she made a scene of herself.

Frigga met her when she came out of the toilet, greeting her with a stunning smile. "Lady Darcy."

"Um, Queen Frigga." She tried to do a little bow, but stumbled forward, regaining her composure with her grip on a side table. How could she be so roaring drunk in front of royalty? She cringed. "I am _so_ sorry."

"It is quite alright. It is a celebration after all." She smiled. "Tell me, Lady Darcy. I've heard reports back from Lady Sif about Loki's temperament at the current time, but I'd like to hear how my son is faring through a different set of eyes."

She hooked her arm through Darcy's, and led her to the side of the room.

"Loki? Um." She thought for a second, not wanting to offend, but knew she would anyway. "He's… Less psychotic than I had pictured. Kinda moody."

Frigga frowned. "He has been through a most trying time."

"He deserved it. No offense." She added, with a grimace. The comment just fell out of her mouth without warning. She tried to patch it up. "I mean, he's okay now, but it's been two years. Most murderers back where I come from get twenty plus or Capital punishment."

"No offence taken, Lady Darcy. I understand your protectiveness of your race and home. I fear Asgardian prisons are… more demanding than your Midgardian ones."

Darcy nodded, picturing the bleak room and the darkness. Most of all, the image that flashed through her brain was of Loki's dull eyes, and his broken expression. "I understand."

Frigga unhooked her arm from Darcy's. "May I ask a favour?"

Darcy nodded cautiously. She couldn't exactly say no.

"Our society seems more than weary of Loki's presence here. He should be a gentleman, but would you ask him to dance?"

Darcy bit her lip and looked over at Loki's bored expression. "Me? Why?"

"Well, Lady Sif is tending to other matters, and he can hardly dance with the Asgardians that are still cautious in his presence. It would benefit him in blending back into society."

"Really?" She said, rudely. Then she completely forgot who she was talking to. Darcy found herself nodding. "Sure."

Frigga touched her cheek gently. "Thank you. It is going to be hard to get others to accept my son after what he has done. A helping hand would be more than useful."

Darcy found herself smiling, though she just wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground. "Yeah. Sounds… Interesting."

Frigga turned and headed back to the high table with a word of thanks, and Darcy found herself fighting the urge to face palm herself into oblivion. "Damnit." She muttered under her breath as she put all concentration into walking straight and not tripping over her gown.

"Loki." She said when she reached the table, with a quick look over to Frigga sat at the high table with Jane and Thor who were watching them. Frigga nodded her head slightly to Darcy, and then looked away. Darcy took a deep breath and tried to appear as easy going as possible. Drunk Darcy was great at getting guys to dance with her in clubs, but Loki was a different thing entirely. And so was formal Asgardian dancing. "Do you want to dance?"

"With you?" He said immediately, his eyebrows shooting up.

"Well, if you don't want to, fine. I- " She was cut off by him getting up and taking her hand. His touch was cold but his fingers were softer than she had imagined. She jerked away, then remembered Frigga was watching them both.

"No, it would be my pleasure, Lady Darcy."

"Balls."

He stopped and looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"I was counting on you to say no. I can hardly stand."

"Then I will do the leading." He walked slowly up to the twirling dancers, aware of everyone's eyes on the mortal and the Joten prince, hand in hand. He smirked, and put his hand lightly on her waist. He could be charming when he wanted to.

He must've been skilled, Darcy thought as they stepped effortlessly through the throng. She was hardly doing anything. One hand was resting tentatively on his shoulder; the other was clasped in his. Her feet didn't seem to be having any trouble as he guided her, swaying from side to side. She felt herself blush as she felt his touch tighten around her waist, the slender fingers holding her silk covered curves.

She felt the urge to lean in and rest her head on his chest. It looked so… welcoming. He was so tall, too, Darcy pictured her head on his chest, his chin on the top of her head, his lips in her hair.

She stopped her drunken thoughts right there. Sure, he looked beautiful. The combination of slick black hair, pale skin, cheekbones and glowing green eyes were enough to make any girl swoon. But this was _Loki. _And this dance was a favour. A favour at her best friend's wedding from a Queen.

She stared into his leather clad chest, not daring to look up into his eyes. She knew he was looking at her. His gaze felt as if it would burn a hole through her.

"You're good at this." She admitted.

"I practiced. In my cell."

At this, Darcy managed a genuine giggle. Loki didn't do humour… Did he? She felt him gently pull her closer with a smirk.

"And tell me. Was my mother's request too much to handle?"

She looked up and wished she hadn't. Her gaze would most likely never leave his face, now.

"Mother's request?" She whispered. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Contrary to popular belief, I am not ignorant. I know she's asked you to accompany me. To help restore my…tarnished reputation."

Darcy sighed and felt his fingers tighten around hers. He was still staring at her, and her at him.

"I can't refuse a Queen's request."

"Am I _that_ repellent?" His voice shook with either anger or hurt, Darcy couldn't tell which. She frowned. Probably anger, knowing Loki's temperament. It was amazing how Loki's expression could be either one or the other- it made him harder to read.

"I thought you were the type who doesn't care what anybody thinks about you."

"I didn't use to care." He sighed. "Now…"

He trailed off, as the music became slower. "May I?" He let go of her hand for a hold on her waist. She put her arms on his chest, too small even in heels to put them around his neck. "Go ahead." She half expected her voice to quiver, but it stayed steady despite the distance between their bodies. She tried not to be fazed by their closeness, imagining his hands around someone's neck, choking the life out of them. It probably happened in New York, who knows. It made her feel uncomfortable, but at least it kept her guard up.

"How do I know this isn't some sort of show you're putting on to make people trust you again so you can betray them again?" She half whispered, feeling the leather under her skin move up and down with every breath.

"You don't."

"So you're going back to the old ways of murder and betrayal?" She said light-heartedly, feeling a little dizzy from the twirling and the alcohol. Not to mention the social pressure of everyone looking at them both staring into each other's eyes.

"I never said that." Loki looked over her head, and leaned in closer, so close she could rest her head on his chest. Darcy had a quick look around at the other couples dancing. They were all slow stepping, with much more intimate poses than theirs. She relaxed and leant against his slender body. Her sober, rational self was screaming at her. She ignored it.

"So you're a good guy now?" Her voice came out muffled against his clothes.

"I don't think I'll ever be the good guy, Lady Darcy." He said, his voice full of amusement.

"True. You have a hell of a track record." She said, guiltily savouring the moment quietly until the music came to an end. She broke away from him reluctantly, feeling oddly comfortable in his arms. He went to lead her back to the table when he glanced her way and chuckled to himself.

"What now?" She said irritably.

"You have marks. On your cheek." He went to touch the impression his clothes had made on her skin, making her blush wildly. Now she could really feel the eyes on the two of them. She tried to picture the fingers on her cheek being the ones that had… pulled a trigger on a gun or something. She could never forget he was a murderer. Watching her back, just like Jane suggested.

"Your stupid clothes." She went to bat his hand away. He caught it and weaved his fingers through hers leading her back to the table. Volstagg was telling a group of drunken Asgardians yet _another _tale, but Hogun hadn't moved, and his wine glass was still empty. She and Loki sat down, his hand still in hers. She pulled away from his cool touch, playing with a stray bit of confetti on the table.

"Interesting." She heard him mutter under his breath.

"What are you talking about?"

"The reactions of your friend. Especially when I do this." He leant forward in his chair, facing her and put a gentle hand on her cheek again. His touch was cool against her blazing red cheeks.

"Hey!" She glanced around. "Stop that. No wonder Jane reacts when you do that."

He tilted his head to the side playfully, both his hands now on the table uncomfortably close to hers. He definitely lived up to his mischievous title. "Why? My mother has no doubt told her about her request."

"It's not that. It's…" She searched her wine-addled brain for a suitable word. "Intimate. Weird."

He raised his eyebrows, and Darcy found herself without restraint again, words tumbling out. "Haven't you ever dated anyone?"

"Dated?"

"Sorry. Um…haven't you ever been in a relationship with anyone?"

"You think I don't know what 'intimacy' is." Loki rolled his eyes, then leant back in his chair and thought hard. "There have been a few, relatively short, encounters. None that I have been especially willing to continue."

Darcy laughed into her wine glass. "Huh. Figures."

"What?" It was his turn to be annoyed now.

"You're like a robot."

Loki looked at her, confused. Darcy rephrased her words again. "Um, like an emotionless person. I bet you never let anyone in."

"Never had any reason to." He looked down and Darcy felt like her drunken openness had loosened Loki's tongue.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- Hello again! Sorry it's been so long since I last updated, so here's part 2 of the Wedding! As always, a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed- I'm so happy everyone is loving the story! Also, a huge thank you to for proof-reading this to perfection, and SqueakyDolphin6 for our Loki-analysis sessions! **

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_

Although she felt like she was making progress with the dysfunctional prince, she felt a little disappointed when he excused himself. Watching curiously, she saw him strike up a hesitant conversation with Thor, who seemed more than enthusiastic to listen. It wasn't long until a server pulled a chair up to the table, and Loki sat uncomfortably between his father and his brother.

Darcy watched intently as the two brothers exchanged words. She could see the family were cautious but welcoming, and Darcy half wondered if they were patching things up between them. She followed their conversation with a scowl, looking around at the three empty seats beside her, where Loki, Sif and Fandral had once sat. She presumed Sif and Fandral had something going on, so it wasn't surprising that they had both disappeared at the same time.

Darcy poured herself another glass of wine, suddenly feeling too sober for a wedding celebration. She'd been to her fair share of weddings, and made a fool of herself in every one. She figured Asgard wasn't a good place to make a drunken fool of herself, but that didn't stop her from downing yet another glass. That was when she saw Loki rise and begin to walk her way with the same unreadable look in his face, but a spring in his step. Her observation was cut off abruptly by a man's voice beside her. She looked up in surprise.

"Midgardian, correct? Queen Jane's friend?" He smiled with a flash of perfect white teeth. His voice was soft, akin to the readers of Darcy's small collection of audiobooks. He had a blonde mess of shoulder length hair, braided back from his face, and wore black leather decorated with swirling, Celtic-like décor made from gold and steel. He was handsome, gazing down at her with a boyish smile, and Darcy found herself smiling back.

"Yeah, that's right." Her voice felt slurry- she had to concentrate very hard to get the words out properly. "Where are you from?"

"Glitner." She had no idea if that was his name or where he came from. "My name is Forseti." He said with a response to her blank look. He reached out for her hand and gave it a soft brush of his lips.

"Darcy Lewis."

Forseti took her hand again and held it in his. "Would you like to dance?"

Darcy would've just _loved_ to just sit there and listen to Volstagg's stories over and over, but being pissed at Loki and the others for leaving her alone, she felt restless. And conflicted. She looked back, where Loki had slowed his pace, a frown on his face. She looked into the kindly eyes of Forseti and noticed their difference to Loki's. Where he was all black, green and ghost white, Forseti was blonde, tan and golden. Complete opposites. With one last fleeting look at Loki behind her, she decided.

"Absolutely." She took his hand as he led her to the dance floor. Where Loki's touch was cool and soft, Forseti's was warm and tight, grasping her hand uncomfortably. She stopped dancing suddenly, earning her a confused look from Forseti. "What is it?" He said, concerned.

"Nothing." She shook it off, and continued dancing. God, she had to stop comparing this guy to Loki. She'd known him two seconds, and was judging him by the brief experience she'd had with the Asgardian-Jotunn ex-prisoner. She tried to push him out of her mind, and tried to enjoy the night with Forseti, who was charming and amusing. It didn't help that Loki was now staring at them both dancing with a… betrayed look on his face. Darcy shook it off- he'd left her for Thor and Jane before to talk, he could do it again if he felt lonely. Besides, the deal with his mother was to dance, not babysit.

It wasn't long until they sat down at the table again, Darcy feeling the pain from her high heels. She cast a quick look over at Loki, who was now sipping wine and listening to Volstagg's never ending tales, occasionally nodding. Forseti smiled widely, extending a hand out to Loki. "Nice to meet you, Loki Odinson."

"Laufeyson." He corrected him with a sneer. He looked away from Volstagg and then to the hand that went to shake his in disgust. Forseti dropped it with an awkward look on his face.

"What's wrong with you?" Darcy hissed under her breath, though she knew _exactly_ what was wrong with him. "Couldn't you be nice for two seconds?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. Obviously not.

Forseti looked sheepishly at Darcy. Loki got up swiftly and moved to the side of the room with an exasperated look on his face, leaning on a nearby pillar as he had done earlier.

"What the hell was all that about?" Darcy pulled a face, then grinned, hypnotised by his bright blue eyes. "What a drama queen."

"He looks like he's sulking." He noted with a smile. "I saw you two dancing earlier. You and he seemed quite smitten."

"Smitten?" Darcy contemplated telling him about the Queen's favour, but stopped when she realised that it might halt the repair of Loki's social standing.

"Yes, and vise-versa; For a man who defied his King and waged war, he seems to be… tolerant of you, a mortal from the realm he tried and failed to conquer."

Darcy looked at him in surprise. She hadn't really noticed the fact that Loki had been so… nice to her. He'd even opened up to her a little in his cell, surprisingly and she hadn't thought much of it. After all, that's what normal people did- although Loki was quite the opposite of _normal_. She'd treated him with suspicion, and rightly so. Loki must have thought her an ant- especially if she had met him back in New York. But now… It was hard to tell if he was acting charming, or he had truly been rehabilitated.

"He's only tolerant 'cause if he murders me it'll mean he'll be imprisoned again." She scoffed.

Forseti looked at her, tilting his head. "So you have no feelings toward him?"

Darcy glanced at Loki, who was pulling the 'moody teenager' look at a nearby pillar. His glance met hers and she looked away quickly. "He made a lot of big mistakes, Forseti, and it's understandable us 'mortals'," She air-quoted, "haven't forgiven him for the mess he made of our realm." She saw him glance at Loki, who scowled back at him.

Something changed in Forseti's look, and without warning, he leaned over and kissed her. He slid his hands down her back, soft fingers brushing the back of her corset like the strings of a harp. His mouth tasted of sweet wine, and she found herself pulling him closer. Although aware of the pair of green eyes watching them both, she reciprocated enthusiastically- this guy was an Aesir, handsome _and_ a gentleman. But something nagged at the back of her mind suddenly, and she pulled away from him with a gasp. She couldn't help notice the empty spot where Loki had stood, or the shadow retreating out of the hall.

He looked confused. "Have I done something wrong?"

Darcy looked back at him, biting her lip. "No. It's me, honestly. I think I should go. I'm tired." It wasn't a lie- she was dog-tired- the wedding had drained her emotionally and physically and most of the guests had retired back to their rooms anyway.

"One more drink? Please." He looked at her with puppy eyes. "I won't even touch you if you don't want it, I promise."

"Sex is the last thing on my mind right now," she said brashly, looking at the surprise on his face. Well, she wanted to tell it how it was. "One more drink." She owed him that. He seemed cute and although he was confident, his sheepish grins reminded of her of her old boyfriend who used to be all coy and bashful.

His returned smile was bright and genuine. "I do enjoy your company over the Aesir women, you know." She scanned the room as he poured her another glass of wine and passed it to her.

She smiled, her attention now fully on him. "Are they really that boring?"

"No, you're fascinating."

"Wow, opportunity well taken." She said sarcastically and laughed. "It's the different world thing. Realm thing, I mean. You guys are really interesting just because you're so… unalike."

"I wouldn't say that."

"When was the last time you sat in front of the TV for a twelve hour marathon with a family-sized bag of Doritos and a crate of beer?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

He actually looked ridiculously confused at this. She giggled and took a sip of the wine. Ew. It tasted disgusting. They must have different wine on each table. This was bitter, but she drunk it anyway- she was drunk, she would down anything.

"TV? Dor-ee-toes?"

"Cultural differences. Have you ever been to Earth? Midgard, I mean." She corrected herself.

"Once. It was drab and dull, chimneys everywhere. The place stunk of squalor and smoke."

She screwed her face up. "Looks like you picked the wrong era."

"Absolutely."

She drained the last of her bitter wine with a smile. "Thank you, Forseti, for entertaining me tonight."

"It was my pleasure, Lady Darcy." He took her hand and kissed it with a sly smile. She turned her back and walked away as dignified as she could.

She wasn't sure why she was in so much of hurry to get out of there. After all, he seemed like a nice guy. But Darcy couldn't figure out why she was so suddenly turned off by him. "Damn it." She muttered, stumbling her way out. She sat down and took her heels off, which had ripped her feet to shreds. Heels in one hand, she marched up to the high table, where only Odin and Frigga sat now. She assumed Jane and Thor had left the party early, and so had most of the guests, looking around at the empty tables. Even Jane's parents had left, leaving only the King and Queen at the table.

It was quietening down now, and she stifled a yawn as she reached the high table. She bowed her head, unsure of any royal etiquette here. "Thank you for the reception." She said, looking at their tired faces. "Thor and Jane's wedding was beautiful."

Odin looked at her hard, as if trying to figure something out. "You are most welcome, Lady Darcy."

She bowed her head again and walked out into the corridor, when she remembered the gem around her neck. She wasn't walking back to her room- she wasn't sure whether she'd make it. She thought a guest tripping over her unconscious body in the hallway would probably put a dampener on things. She held the gem around her neck tightly once more and transported back to the darkened room with a sigh.

Zombie-like, she stripped down to her underwear, put an old t-shirt on and climbed into the bed, only taking time to drunkenly take her contacts out. She couldn't be bothered taking her make up off, and snuggled into the quilts with a contented sigh.

"Darcy?" She heard a man's sleepy voice next to her. Worse, she recognised it as Loki's. He must've moved back to his old room, not knowing she was staying there. She wished she'd have spread out like she usually did, so she could have known he was there earlier, but having a single bed at Jane's lab for months had put her on auto-pilot foetal position. Plus, her eyes had not yet adjusted to the light in the pitch black room.

"Go back to sleep, Loki." She mumbled against the pillow, too tired to talk or argue.

"Why are you here?" He demanded, sitting up. "Where's the blonde haired oaf you were so friendly with?"

She rolled over to get angry but instead stifled a gasp. In the moonlight pouring through the window, she could make out a pale chest, with a set of remarkable collarbones. Damn. She half wondered whether he was fully naked under the sheets until she saw the fabric of his pants around his waist. Hiding her shock, she slurred into the pillow.

"Gone. Where I've been staying… All rooms full… When you're in prison… Said the wrong room and found you in prison... Loki's room. My bad." She felt herself drifting into a wine-induced sleep; the lure of the silky sheets too much.

"So you didn't come visit me out of pure curiosity?" He said. She was surprised he'd even got the gist of what she just said. She wasn't sure _she_ had.

"Accident." She sighed. "Night, Loki."

"Get out of my room." He suddenly sounded like a moody teenager again.

"Get out of _my _room." She said back childishly.

"Darcy. You can't sleep here."

"Why not? I can't sleep outside. It's uncomfortable." She grew more and more awake by the second, when her body just wanted to shut down and go to sleep. "Shut up, I need to sleep."

"People will get the wrong idea." He said through gritted teeth, sitting back up again.

"I'm not moving. Nobody cares."

"I do."

"Well move then."

"It's my room." He said stubbornly.

"Just go to sleep, Loki." She repeated. "I don't care." She was sick of arguing like children. She propped herself up on her side and lifted her arm to push the Trickster God down onto the bed with all the force she could muster in her tiredness. She didn't know what came over her at first, but she felt the overwhelming urge to touch his marble skin. Loki looked surprised by her sudden touch and laid back down with a defeated sigh. Darcy guessed he was used to doing what people told him to do by now. That thought made her feel a little guilty, but oddly comfortable that he didn't fight it.

"See. Not so bad." She mumbled, her hand still on his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall. Even she wasn't sure if she meant their intimacy, or the fact Loki was doing what he was told for once.

Loki was silent, his breathing steady. She went to draw her hand away in embarrassment when he put his cool, slender hand over hers, placing it gently back on his bare chest. He closed his eyes. "Not so bad."

For that night, Darcy feigned ignorance and closed her eyes to welcome blissful sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- So… thank you for the awesome feedback, you guys honestly keep me writing like a trooper despite my uni books begging to be read…! **

**Also, time between updates will be a teensy bit longer than usual- I finally got a job, and have a ton of uni work to do. I'm determined to stick this story out though, never fear, and absolutely won't leave it hanging!**

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**Chapter 7**

"Your highness, I can't find Darcy anywhere," Sif bowed to the tired Queen Frigga, who was busy saying her goodbyes to guests.

"With her residing in Loki's room, and Loki returning from his imprisonment, I didn't have chance to tell her she has a new room prepared for tonight outside the castle. She just disappeared- I should go and –"

Frigga cut Sif off with a sly smile. "Lady Sif. Leave her be."

"Pardon, my Queen?" Sif was dumbfounded, almost forgetting her royal manners in her confusion.

Frigga turned her gaze from the departing guests and chuckled. "I know what I'm doing, Lady Sif. Leave her be. Besides, Fandral is waiting for you."

Sif blushed heavily and began to stammer. "V-very well. Goodnight."

* * *

Frigga brushed through her golden hair, the sunrise casting a beautiful glow around her lavishly decorated Asgardian chamber. She thought back to the conversation she had with her husband before Thor's wedding. She had been sat in this exact spot…

_She looked into her mirror, seeing her husband's conflicted look in the reflection behind her. Her voice was a desperate plea, whilst his expression became stony and cold._

"_Dearest, you must take heed of what I say. Like you, everything I do is for a reason." She turned in her chair to face him, her voice full of anxiety. "You know what I saw, you know what must transpire." She touched her husband's face lightly, but he turned and shrugged away from her touch._

"_You cannot interfere. That is a rule you created yourself. You said you wouldn't throw the future into dismay by your hand."_

_Frigga sighed heavily. "It is a nudge to the right direction. He's dancing on a liminal line between redemption and destruction*.__I will not have him destroying himself again." _

"_It is not our concern. You know how he is. He will break everything in the end."_

"_We broke him." Frigga admitted calmly, as she had done for centuries. _

_At this, Odin turned to leave. Before he shut the door behind him, he said in a grave voice. "I will not have you playing matchmaker. The boy chooses his own path." He closed the door, leaving Frigga alone with her thoughts._

She knew her husband was correct, though she had still interfered. Last time she had tried to save her son, he had died, just as she envisioned. Just as he had, too, in his depressive dreams. Even in the aftermath of such a happy event of Thor's wedding, she wept bitterly in helplessness.

* * *

Loki woke, feeling the unfamiliar warmth of a woman's body beside him. He looked down at her sleeping form, which had snuggled into his arms at some point during the night. Half of him wanted to pull her close, feeling the urge for human contact he'd put off for so long and denied he ever had. He swallowed down the fondness he was quickly developing for weak mortals. He meant to rule them, not the other way around. But he still found himself trying to remember the last time he'd woken like this. His mother had held him in his prison cell, but that had been different. He'd had many women in his bed in the past, but it had been a while since he last felt anything but revulsion for another being.

He brushed back a strand of her hair with a tender touch even he was surprised by. She didn't even stir- dead to the world. Sighing heavily, he pulled away from her, and got up to shower and dress. He noticed, with annoyance, she'd left her things lying haphazardly around his bathroom; a shampoo bottle, a pink razor, her make up bag and toothbrush. The mortal had definitely made herself at home in his room, he noted with dull annoyance tinged with amusement.

When he got back, she was still dozing. How long did mortals need to sleep for anyway? Her bare leg hung out of the bed endearingly, her mouth half open in a childlike notion, making her look much younger than she already was. Probably drooling into his pillows, he thought with yet another pang of annoyance.

He noticed her bag beside the sofa, something he had not noticed last night when he came in. Her clothes were in a heap by the bedside, the green dress she had worn last night crumpled on the floor. He went to hang it up- he couldn't stand mess.

"Loki?" Darcy woke up and stretched, feeling the uncomfortable ache of her muscles and head after a night drinking. She sat up, propping herself up on the pillows. Holy crap, this hangover was bad. Her head was pounding, and her body felt fragile, as if she'd been beaten up. Her voice was croaky and her throat felt like she'd swallowed razorblades. She'd deserved it, she thought unhappily. _Just one more drink- really? _

She noticed her dress in Loki's hands. "What're you doing with my clothes?"

A giggle escaped her lips, followed by a hefty cough. "I knew it! If you want to try my dress on, all you have to do is ask." She pictured Loki in her green dress and laughed even harder, her chest moving painfully with each intake of breath. He looked at her blankly, and she took a moment to admire his wet hair. The strands that hung messily over his face made him look younger, more vulnerable. It hadn't flicked out yet; it was longer than she had thought it was. He put the dress back on the floor in a pile.

With a flick of his fingers, a glass of water appeared in his slender hands. "Here." He said, feeling slightly disconnected from his own actions. He watched in amusement as she took it with a word of thanks, gulped it down in one and licked her lips. He looked at her a split second too long, watching her small tongue flick over her full lips, mesmerised by the motion.

"How do you still do that?" She asked, perplexed by his magic as she passed the glass to him. He sat himself on the side of the bed and took the glass, dissolving it within a second.

"They didn't take my magic from me, if that is what you mean. Just my mind." He was just about to get up when he felt a warm touch upon his arm.

"What is the matter?" He said, looking at her intently.

Darcy swallowed, cursing her impulsive actions. Just because they'd slept beside each other last night didn't mean she was fond of him. She was tired, and drunk, and she'd had no other place to sleep. She felt no pull toward the God other than his stunning attractiveness, and still had to keep reminding herself he was the bad guy. But she still wanted him to stay, to talk to her. It was frustrating. The war in her brain was making her head hurt even more than it already was.

She gazed back at him, swallowing down the headache and the intense stabbing pain in her abdomen. She just wanted to curl up in a ball with a ton of painkillers. But when she locked gazes with those vibrant green eyes, her mind went blank and she felt herself biting her lip in frustration. _Stop it, Darcy. Stop it._

"Stop it, Darcy." Loki's voice mirrored her inner thoughts and she gasped. He couldn't read minds, could he?

"What?" She said in a panic. "Stop what?"

"This." He reached out with his thumb and touched her lip lightly where she had bitten it. "Your… lip." So he wasn't a mind reader, Darcy thought in relief. But still her pulse stayed the same, a heavy, fast thrumming that he could probably hear through her skin. He didn't know what he was doing when he reached out to her. His thumb traced her now open lips, her quivering breath quickening as he filled the space between them, sliding up the bedside gracefully.

"Darcy." He whispered lightly, so quiet she had to strain her ears to hear her name passed through the lips of the troublesome God of Mischief. It was uttered more as a question than anything else. But she didn't pull away when his hand cupped her face, his fingers brushing her hair, his lips inches apart from hers. In fact, she'd leant in to meet him eagerly. Their lips brushed with a light hesitance, Loki's fingers gently brushing down her neck, pulling her toward him. Darcy suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach, causing her to reel back from his touch. She sharply pulled away from him, his face full of confusion and hurt until he saw her grasp her stomach, her face scrunched up with pain.

"Sorry. Sorry." She managed to gasp. "Must be the wine."

Knowing full well that this was not her usual 'hanging' state, she went to get up to go to the bathroom. Loki watched silently as she untangled herself from the covers, her cheeks turning bright red when she realised she wasn't wearing any pyjama bottoms. He, surprisingly, wasn't looking at her bare legs. He was observing her face, which, despite her blush, was a deathly pale, her eyes bloodshot in spite of her long sleep. Sweat began to sheen over her pale skin. She looked frail for a mortal.

"Darcy?" He started, when she took a total of two steps and suddenly crumpled to the floor with a gasp. He managed to catch her before she hit her head on the floor. He had thought she was just suffering from a hangover, but she looked worse than that.

"Darcy?" He said again, his breath quickening in panic. Her body slumped, lifeless against his arms. "Darcy. This isn't a funny joke."

He felt desperation colour his voice, something he hadn't heard for a while now. She was hardly breathing, a small wisp of breath escaping her full lips. Her skin was pale and cold. "Valhalla." He swore, checking her pulse. It was there, but barely. Lifting her up with ease, he felt her body go limp in his arms. He put her body back on the bed with a steady hand, only stopping to cover her bare legs with a woollen throw.

Was it he who had done this to her? Some sort of curse that meant everything he touched died? He felt a sudden pang of what he thought was guilt. Feeling eyes on his back, he turned to find himself under the confused stare of Sif, who, with no answer at the door, had let herself in to assess the damage of last night's command from Queen Frigga. She stood frozen, with a horrified look on her face. He couldn't help himself when he yelled at her, causing her to flinch back. "Get help! Now!"

* * *

It took a minute for medical aide to get to his room, led by Sif and followed by Fandral, who'd been woken by the noise and commotion, following Sif like a lost puppy. Sif took another look at Darcy's lifeless body on the bed and went for Loki, who had a light hand on Darcy's forehead, eyebrows furrowed. She pushed him hard against the wall, blade in hand.

"What did you do to her?!" She yelled.

Loki looked defiantly into her eyes, feeling the blade against his neck draw blood. "Nothing. I assure you, these are not my workings." He said it coolly, his gaze flicking to the medical aides who were no doubt trying to stabilise her condition with their magic. Sif saw a flicker of concern in his eyes when he glanced Darcy's way, remembering the way he'd screamed at her for help. She let him down with a sigh.

"You." She pointed her blade at him. "I will end your life if I find out you have lied to me."

"You can join the long list of people who want me dead, then." He muttered. He didn't even look at her. He strode over to the medics. One of them turned around at his presence and flinched as he nudged him out of the way. He put one hand on her forehead and another on her stomach, concentrating hard. The medics looked at him confused as to whether they should intervene. One began to protest when Loki muttered something under his breath.

"Nerium Oleander." He said in relief. So it had not been his fault, unless his lips were poisoned.

"Sorry?" The flinching man asked Loki.

Loki sighed and spoke louder, taking the hand off her stomach and forehead. He spewed out words like he was reading from a textbook, never looking up at the medic. "There's traces of the poison, Nerium Oleander in her body. From the dogbane family Apocynaceae on Midgard. It's toxic in concentrated doses and causes a racing heart, seizures and…" He looked down at her lifeless body. "Can put mortals into a coma. She must've been poisoned. It is too late to use magic to revive her; the poison is slow reacting and has been in her system for too long."

"How do you know?"

He let out an angry huff and snapped, looking at the man with a scowl. Was this man a medical aide or an idiot? "Do you think these books are here for decoration, you ignorant fool?! The answers are there. My magic does the rest."

They stood there, gaping, until Darcy's body jolted, her face contorting before slumping back into the bed. Sif jumped forward. "Take her to a healer. Now. Stabilise her condition. I will go notify Jane."

Although he was angry, his mind was asking 'who' and 'why' rather than 'what'. Loki put a hand on Sif's shoulder as they lifted Darcy out of the room and disappeared down the hall, wrapping her body in the cover Loki had put over her.

"You think Thor and the mor- _Jane_ are still here? They left for Midgard early this morning with Jane's parents." Thor's wife was now one of them, an Aesir, and could no longer be referred to as 'mortal' like he wished to.

Fandral snatched Loki's hand off Sif's shoulder. "What happened?" Fandral looked at him with the same suspicion as everyone else.

"Fandral…" Sif sighed lightly, remembering her conversation with Queen Frigga last night.

"No, Sif. He knows _exactly _what happened here."

Loki spoke calmly, though he wanted to yell at him. "Where is my gain through murdering a harmless mortal here, under Thor's protection?"

Fandral remembered Darcy's clothing when she was carried out, her bare legs hidden under a blanket. He saw the dress crumpled on the floor - it all came together in his mind. "She didn't come here willingly. You made her come here. You- you-"

Fandral looked at him with disbelief. Sif went to open her mouth, to explain to him that this was all a mistake, but Loki (surprisingly) beat her to it. He closed his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes flicked open and focused on Fandral. Unleashing his barely concealed anger, he spat furiously at him. "I did not touch her." He turned to leave, when he suddenly remembered what Darcy had told him when she came to his cell.

'_If they get it wrong, correct them- don't hold back on details._ _They all think you're who you are now because you haven't bothered to correct them'._

He took a deep breath, looking at Fandral coolly. "She came here, drunk, of her own accord and fell asleep. I hadn't been notified someone else was residing in my quarters during my incarceration, and was unaware. I did nothing more than humour her. She woke and collapsed."

With that, he grabbed a random book from his shelf and left for the medical wing to assess Darcy's condition, leaving Fandral glaring angrily in his direction.

"Sif. Why do you look so relaxed? He abused a guest, and now she's being stretchered off, comatose! Isn't there something there that unsettles you?"

Sif looked at Fandral, a soft, reassuring expression on her face as she took his hand in hers. "I spoke with Queen Frigga about the… double booking and the disappearance of Darcy last night. She told me to leave her be. I know she must have plans concerning Darcy, so I did not fight it. There was no abuse, never fear."

Fandral's face turned from furious to astonished in a matter of seconds. "So Queen Frigga arranged this?"

Sif nodded silently, gazing at the slender figure disappearing down the corridor.

* * *

As Loki descended the steps from his room to the medical wing, two at a time in his haste, he wanted to curse Darcy. His 'new start' had been marred on Day One, and worse- Thor and his new bride would be back in a matter of days, and Thor would no doubt be furious.

He stopped on the stairs, reliving the moment the smile slipped off her face and she crumpled to the ground. Anybody else, he would've been calm and collected, but with Darcy… Had he panicked? He'd definitely been through that before- he'd seen his own father fall into his Odinsleep, he'd seen tons of people die, most by his own hand. Why did it bother him so much? The feel of her when he woke up with her next to him this morning had confused him. That tender touch of her hair, that brush of lips had been his downfall – a mistake he'd vowed never to make again. He had confused her for someone that mattered. He had confused _himself_ for someone that mattered.

Loki reached the medical wing and, with his book clasped tight in his hand, entered hesitantly. It was a huge room lined with beds and curtains, the ceiling as high as a Midgardian church's. Open windows let a light breeze in, ruffling his damp hair that had started to curl out at the ends. He passed a few sickly looking patients sleeping, but aside from that, the place was empty. Aesir didn't get sick often, and wounded only in battle. The medics began muttering upon his appearance, but didn't stop him as he looked for her.

He finally saw her lying on a bed at the end of the hall, a drip in her arm and a tube in her nostrils for nourishment. He frowned. Midgardian medicine was apparently keeping her alive. Wondering vaguely where they had gotten the medicine and equipment from, and what it was running on, he dragged a chair up to her bedside and buried himself in his book. Every now and then, he stopped reading about the barren wastelands of his birthplace to glance over at her vacant expression. With a sigh, he looked back at the worn paper in his slim fingers, wondering why he was here if he didn't care whether she lived or died.

Loki sat, book in hand, trying to understand the situation. It was not him that had killed her, and Darcy was a harmless Midgardian- no one would have quarrel with her, would they?

His mind went to the poison he'd found in her system. It was ineffective against Aesir, which meant whoever poisoned her was going for her kind directly, no mistakes there. Loki couldn't fathom who would want to kill her, much less _why_. Darcy had been the only Midgardian in Asgard, with Jane now fully Aesir. Part of him thought it was an accident, but he'd learnt the hard way that accidents don't just happen when he was involved.

Two nights he sat there, unmoving. He used his magic to exchange books, and to summon food and drink, so he never had reason to leave the medical wing. Sif came and went with the warriors, but never stayed long because of their duties. Loki didn't talk to them anyway- he ignored their presence, and they returned the favour. At least he could read here peacefully.

She looked sickly, he couldn't deny that. Darcy's condition had been stabilised, but her porcelain skin had a dark, sickly hue to it. He smiled nostalgically into his book as he remembered the first time they'd met in his cell. _'You look like shit' _she'd said. Loki couldn't help noticing how the tables had turned. He reached out to brush her hair back again, staring at her full lips; an absentminded motion that he hardly was barely conscious of doing.

* * *

Sif and the Warriors stood at the entrance of the hall, in the corridor with Frigga. "Two days he's been here, you say?" The Queen asked, her voice low.

Sif sighed. "He hasn't left her bedside."

"Have you notified Lady Jane and Thor?" Fandral asked quietly, swallowing down his accusations. He- and the other Warriors- had discussed in depth about how Loki must have been doing this for show. He would give the impression of a sad puppy and Asgard would drop its suspicion toward him. Sif had surprisingly stayed quiet during these sessions, a confusing notion that Fandral and the others took for doubt and uncertainty.

Frigga nodded. "I thought I would allow husband and wife a peaceful few days. They are making their way back to Asgard as we speak, though there is nothing they can do."

"It is a matter of patience," Volstagg said quietly.

Frigga watched as the Warriors bowed and left her. She looked at her son from the entrance, taking guilty pleasure in the fact he seemed to _care_ about something for once. She'd seen this scenario in her visions, but seeing it acted out in reality made her heart tighten and a soft smile colour her face despite Darcy's condition. Without a word, she retreated back down the corridor.

* * *

The Warriors Three took in the sight of Loki still by her bedside later that day and scowled. Sif trailed behind, now a neutral party in the 'Loki depreciation club'-where Darcy was concerned, anyway. Loki saw them enter and was ready for an argument, but it didn't come. Instead, they moved to let Thor and Jane through, who had finally returned to Asgard.

Jane, tears streaming down her face, lifted her skirts and ran the length of the hall, burying herself in Darcy's shoulder, taking her hand. Loki watched on in mild fascination. Jane looked up and noticed him there for the first time. "What did you do to her?!" She screamed at him, mirroring Sif's accusation just two days ago.

Loki closed his book with a soft snap, suddenly sick of people's assumptions.

"It was not my doing." He said calmly, looking into her brown eyes that seemed to glow with immortality. Thor's hand was on his shoulder, and Loki braced himself. He expected him to hit him, or throw him across the room. Instead, he patted his brother's shoulder affectionately.

"You should get some sleep, brother. You look most unwell."

Loki shrugged off the casual touch of his brother and watched Jane as she turned to her new husband with an incredulous look. Even though they had talked and resolved a few issues at his wedding, Loki was still not fond of his 'brother'. His anger and frustration had been simmering for two days now, and Loki found himself overly annoyed at Thor's kind words.

"I have been unwell the past two years, _brother_." He spat. "And yet I did not see you so concerned when I was rotting in a cell, or when you were sewing my lips together or- " Loki stopped and gasped at his own outburst and painful memories. Loki's fingers went to touch his lips protectively, then curled into fists by his sides. Thor looked at him with a soft expression, despite Loki's anger.

"Broth- Loki." Thor corrected himself, knowing it would further anger him. He opened his mouth but couldn't find the words to comfort his much changed brother. Thor saw the pain in his eyes, instead of the anger in his tone, and sighed heavily, putting a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder instead. Finally, the words came to him after a long silence. "You left me no choice."

"I know." Loki stood up and silently left Darcy's bedside, glancing at her comatose form briefly, unsure of where he would go next.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Aghh, I'm missing Darcy already, and it's only barely been one chapter since she's been out, even when things were getting interesting! My advice, ****don't worry about it****. I'm not, because I have half an idea where this story is going now, wooo, me!**

***If you're thinking that this line:**

"He's dancing on a liminal line between redemption and destruction."

**Was too intelligent/eloquent for me, then you are rude. But correct! They are nothing other than Tom Hiddleston's words, from an interview or something… I read them online and instantly wanted to rephrase them (I couldn't), or fit them in somewhere (I did) because they were perfect in describing Loki's character, as Tom usually is!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**

**It is finally here! Sorry to everyone about the delay, as I said, working and studying leave hardly any time for me to write! Thank you for all the reviews I haven't managed to get back to- you're all AMAZING for sticking by my story! I hope I continue to satisfy any Loki/Darcy feels everyone has! Also, a huge thanks to Jess for reading and checking every chapter- you keep my story squeaky clean and free of mistakes :) **

**Anyway...**

**So I may have encroached onto Norse Mythology territory here. All will be revealed at the end for you guys confused about references, don't fret!**

* * *

_**Chapter 8**_

Thor sat next to Jane as she sat by Darcy's bedside, her warm hand in Darcy's cold one. She looked at her friend through tired eyes, watching her chest rise steadily up and down in the comforting sign of life. Thor saw sadly that his wife's bright eyed expression had been replaced with a dull and desolate look.

"Can't they do anything?" Jane asked in a dead tone, looking intently at Darcy's ghost-white face.

"No magic can save her, Jane. We just need to wait. Her body may repair itself."

"Is your father questioning the guests of Darcy's poisoning?"

"Maybe it wasn't an attempt at her life. We can't rule out accidents." Thor shrugged, suggesting reasonably.

"Really?!"

"Jane, you must understand that of all things, suspicion toward our guests will end in unfriendly relations. It is not what we need, after the chaos in Jotunheim we barely managed to control." He saw Jane's mouth open to protest, turning her gaze to him angrily. "My father has our people investigating quietly. It is common for our neighbours to take offense easily, given the influence Asgard has and the threat we pose, Jane."

"So he's not investigating an… an 'insignificant' human's poisoning because he doesn't want to _offend_ people?" Jane couldn't understand why Odin wouldn't investigate, especially when the poisoner was likely to be in the very walls of his castle. "Nearly all of the guests have gone home- it's impossible to find them! They should have started this days ago!"

"Please, Jane." Thor put a gentle arm around her, sighing deeply. "I will ensure I find the person responsible, with or without my father's help. Besides, Darcy could tell us herself, when she wakes up."

Jane noted his use of 'when' and not 'if'. She scowled. "Any news on Loki?"

Thor scoffed. "He seems to be fond of Darcy, strangely."

"Loki isn't fond of anyone but himself." Jane found herself saying lifelessly. "He lacks compassion, a _conscience_."

Thor frowned. "Not without reason. He has been through a lot, and to see him sat here, comforting a 'mere mortal' (as he would put it) whose realm was briefly crushed by his _own_ hand is strange. Besides, bizarrely, my mother is more than happy to play matchmaker, if the stories Sif told me were true."

Jane scoffed at the idea of Frigga trying to get Loki to feel any kindness, never mind _love_, towards someone. Especially toward Darcy. She thought of Darcy being involved with him and shuddered. "You believe he didn't do this? Why isn't he back in his cell?"

"He is mischievous and cunning, but I believe he speaks the truth about this matter. After all, what would he seek to gain from this?"

"I just can't believe him. He'd been out of prison the day before Darcy was poisoned. He even tried to kill you, his own_ brother,_ twice."

"My brother was foolish to attack me, but his actions against Midgard were unwise and uncalled for, it is true."

"Did he say why he did it?" Jane's voice was quiet as she looked at Darcy with continued concern.

"The attack on New York?" He asked.

Jane nodded.

"He gave us an excuse. My father did not believe him, but my mother fought to hear him out. I fear Loki's actions have caused a rift between our parents that may never be repaired."

"What was the excuse he gave?" Jane asked him freely. She knew he didn't like to talk about his brother, and so the past two years involved Jane avoiding the 'L' word. Thor had noticed Jane skirted around the past events, and his brother. He was more than happy _not_ to talk about the complication of Loki whilst on Midgard with Jane.

Thor looked tired. "He speculated that the sceptre in his possession was a tool used by the Other himself to manipulate his free will."

"So… Mind control?"

"Essentially."

"Do you believe him?"

Thor took a while to answer. "I am still unclear. It is hard to tell with Loki."

"You went to visit him in prison, right?" Jane raised her eyebrows. "In the times you returned here without me?"

"I did. On more than one occasion. I would have brought you here, but it would have been a dull and heartless affair. He didn't look at me, and when he did his stare was dead, unresponsive as if he was still looking at the walls of his cell. He still holds a grudge against me for carrying out my father's wishes."

"You actually-physically- sewed his lips together? And then tortured him?" Jane asked incredulously. "And then you came home, to me, as if nothing happened?"

Thor sighed, feeling a weight on his shoulders that had nothing to do with his heavy armour. "You must understand. We Aesir don't feel pain like humans do physically. We can get knocked around without a scratch. That is why his torture was mostly mentally applied, instead of purely physical. That's why I had to do it. Emotionally, we are capable of anything. It was not the physical pain that led him to hate me as he does now, it was the sense of betrayal he felt when I stopped his voice, his lies."

"_He_ betrayed _you_, Thor. And Asgard. And Midgard. And his family: everyone who ever loved him."

"I know." Thor paused, remembering the words his father spoke to him when he had been a younger and more foolish prince. _You're unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed. _Since his father had forgiven Thor his misdemeanour, and taken back his words, he had set about repairing his brother's attitude with the best intentions.

"I went to visit him afterwards, when his stitches remained and his mind healed. He could not talk, and I doubt he would have wanted to. I told him about you, about Midgard, about the wonders of simple human life. I told him stories about Eric and Darcy and Puerto Antiguo. He tried not to seem intrigued, but I saw him listening intently."

Jane smiled sadly. "I'm glad he has a brother who cares about him unconditionally, but aren't you getting tired of him, Thor? All those lies?"

"Tired?" Thor thought for a second. "Yes, tired. But I still believe he has a scrap of humility left in him, and that is worth fighting for, no matter how hard. After all, though not in blood, he is still my brother. He has done terrible things, but I grew up with him, played with him as children. Although I do not forgive him completely, I will still stand by him, if he needs a friend."

Jane sighed, feeling like her new husband was too forgiving of Loki's actions. There was a long silence before she asked quietly. "Do you think Darcy will ever wake up?"

Thor shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Jane's, knowing that she knew the answer to that question already. "Jane," he started off softly, and then stopped when he saw the tears cascading down her cheeks. He drew her into his chest, stroking her hair gently.

"She… She was so excited to see Asgard. But I shouldn't have brought her here. I don't know why anyone would want to hurt her." Jane sobbed into his clothes, pulling him closer to her. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"It is not your fault, Jane." He watched as she pulled away from him and regained her composure, taking Darcy's hand once more.

* * *

Loki opened the door to his chambers and knew something was amiss almost immediately. He didn't need to see the man sat on his couch to know there was someone there.

"You." Loki narrowed his eyes at his unexpected guest. "The blonde oaf. Forseti." He barely remembered his face, though it was only two days ago when he had seen him last.

"Lo-ki." Forseti dragged his name out playfully, like a song. He smiled and got up. It was not the smile he had seen Forseti bestow upon Darcy at the wedding, but a malicious, hate filled smile that surprised even Loki.

"Why are you here?" He asked. "Did you hear about Darcy? You need not be concerned –"

"Two days, Loki." He cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I've waited here _two days_ in order to talk to you, but you… You never came back up here, too _concerned_ for the pathetic mortal who is barely clinging to her worthless life right now. I thought they had thrown you back in your cell."

He laughed freely until his smile faded into a menacing stare. "You know exactly why I'm here, Laufeyson. "

Suddenly, it was as if the puzzle pieces fit together perfectly, and Loki stepped forward, fury in his eyes.

"It was you. You poisoned Darcy." Loki's fingers tingled as he felt a surge of power jolt through him like electricity. He wanted to knock this man down, to wrap his fingers around his throat and throttle the life out of him. But he held himself back, determined to hear the story Forseti would no doubt tell.

Loki's barely controlled anger allowed him one word, spat out from between his teeth. "Why?"

"Do I look like someone you were familiar with?" Forseti tilted his head with a sneer. "Wait."

His face began to change, his nose elongating and eyebrows growing thicker. His skin, still tan and free of imperfections, grew taut about his face, clinging to his bones as if he had been famished. His eyes remained the same bright blue, and his hair golden and flowing, like Thor's. His stubble was more pronounced, compared to his clean shaven imposter.

Loki stifled his gasp, his eyes widening. The resemblance was startling and he recognised him almost immediately. It had been hundreds of years and he'd almost forgotten. "Forseti… Baldrson. Mother thought you dead." After his initial shock wore out, he managed a defeated smile. "So I'm guessing you're here to procure some sort of childish revenge?"

"How _did _you guess 'Uncle' Loki?" Forseti said sarcastically. "I know you have your share of enemies wishing revenge on you- I merely thought I would join them. I hardly knew my father when he was taken from me. Taken from me by _you._"

Loki rolled his eyes, his anger now under control, trying, for once, to talk reason. "It would make no difference for me to say now that I did not murder your father."

"Liar!" He grabbed Loki's neck and pushed him up against the wall, his long arms managing to lift Loki's feet off the floor. "You are a murderer. You always have been." Loki clutched at Forseti's fingers, prying them off with apparent ease. He cried out when his hand began to freeze under Loki's touch. He let go abruptly and stepped back as if nothing had happened, repairing his frostbitten fingertips calmly. Loki stepped forward, but Forseti didn't even flinch at their proximity, still assessing his fingers.

"The Other and his decimated army send their regards," he said coolly, threateningly. "As do the victims of your attempted genocide."

"You're associating with them? An unwise choice." Loki said, his fists clenched.

Matter-of-factly, he said, "Well I've joined the, uh, _masses_ who want you dead. Including your own race, Laufeyson."

"You formed a club?" Loki said sarcastically. "You're as pathetic as the Avengers, though I underestimated them greatly, I admit."

"As you did, Loki. And now you're out of your cell, the fun can begin. Hunting season, as the Midgardians would say."

"I should kill you for what you've done." Loki spat, thinking of the comatose Darcy.

"As should I."

"Why go after an innocent mortal? Are you a coward? Do you not want to bring the quarrel you have with me _to_ me?"

Forseti stepped back and sat back down on the couch, reclining at ease.

"Oh, but I _have_ brought it to you, Laufeyson. You are under suspicion again and doubt is a dangerous thing, you know that. Who do you think watched and learned as Thor told you stories of Jane's friend, and saw your ears prick up in interest? Who do you think led the mortal to your cell, making her _talk_ to you?" He exhaled, frustrated that Loki hadn't figured it out yet. "Then, I had to just see how you looked at each other at my uncle's wedding, and then crush you, as you crushed me."

"So you relied on my… compassion?" Loki laughed. "A prick of the ears in a dank prison cell was my supposed _downfall_? Is that it?"

"You believe you aren't capable of compassion, are you?" Forseti said, drumming his fingers on the leather sofa. "But you're wrong. I could have easily disposed of Queen Frigga instead, but I'm not conspiring to murder my own Grandmother. Unlike you, I value my family, and we Aesir are so hard to kill."

At this, Loki's jaw clenched together painfully, feeling the anger pull him toward Forseti with a stronger force. He couldn't help it when he strode toward his nephew, his fist making contact with Forseti's face with a satisfying smack. Forseti hardly moved or reacted, taken by surprise, a red mark now forming on his left cheek. Loki drew his fist back for another, and another, until Forseti's hand came up to stop him, gripping his fist painfully tight. Forseti's mask was back, only now it was marred by a bloody nose and a red mark that would likely turn into a bruise.

"Don't you dare think about harming my mother." Loki spat, drawing back as Forseti stood up and released his fist. He was nearly as tall as Loki- smaller by only a few centimetres. When he spoke, it was full of hatred that had been bottled up for hundreds of years.

"I just wanted you to feel what I felt the day you murdered my father, and the day my mother threw herself into the flames in anguish. And for that, the mortal will do. She _will_ die. And I, I will return for the grief-stricken Loki Laufeyson afterwards, and I assure you, I will not be alone." He pushed past Loki and went to the exit. His last words before he shut the door behind him were ominous and filled with loathing.

"This is what it feels like to lose something important you barely had a taste of."

* * *

Loki paced up and down his room. He found himself restless, which was uncommon. His monotonous life in his cell for the past few years had ensured he was desensitised to that. His need for physical movement had greatly declined. Still, the encounter with Baldr's son had left him bottled up with rage.

And he felt, for the first time in his life, useless. The damage was done, and it would be impossible to find Forseti now, even for him. He wasn't allowed to leave Asgard, especially not to travel to Jotunheim or the unexplored realms, where he was likely to hide. Odin was not taking the matter seriously anyway. Only when human deaths happened in their hundreds, he would step in and create a fuss. For a mortal like Darcy Lewis, it was unlikely he would turn Asgard upside-down to find the would-be murderer (who would turn out to be his grandson if he looked hard enough). _No_, Loki thought_, it would make Asgard look bad_. And it would be stupid of him to tell them the truth when he was under suspicion himself.

He should have killed Forseti whilst he had the chance. He should've felt the satisfaction of revenge, but he had let him go. Why? Along with his need for physical movement, he realised that the urge to kill his family members had drastically fallen in the past few years, too. He felt exhausted, worn out even by the thought of the repercussions. Besides, a mortal's death was never seen to be worth the death of an Aesir, much less a royal. Maybe imprisonment, he thought, reflecting back to his own sentence.

Loki hadn't murdered Forseti's father. He had never fought it when the guilt was placed upon his shoulders, and bore the punishment that followed. But he _had_ felt responsible for his then-brother's death. After all, in those days, he was a curious being, a bookworm obsessed with science and magic among other things. It had been _he_ that had innocently suggested to a friend that they had not tried the young mistletoe to kill the unkillable Baldr Odinson. Naturally, someone with less admirable motives had overheard, and decided to put it to the test. After the arrow pierced Baldr's heart and ceased it beating, Loki's friend had told his father of the words he had shared with the strange, outcast prince. It was enough to prove him guilty. They pointed their fingers at the black haired recluse easily, effortlessly.

Baldr had died, Frigga went into mourning, and Nanna, Baldr's widow, had joined her husband in his funeral pyre. And his son had disappeared. No one had questioned it- it was the norm for the offspring of Gods to go their own way if their grief was too much.

And so Forseti disappeared, and everyone forgot. Loki sighed in frustration, running a slender hand through his long hair. He should've known Forseti's name from the moment he met him at the wedding, but his face was different, his voice changed, and he bore no resemblance to Baldr in any way, shape or form. Even his mother had not recognised her transformed Grandson at a glance. It was uncommon for Gods to have the same name, but not impossible. After all, the guests had come from realms on the furthest of branches. He hadn't thought past the obvious. Why should he?

He had been jealous of Forseti at the wedding, he realised too late, and this had clouded his judgement. He could've easily seen the mask underneath, put his name into scrutiny, but instead he watched as Darcy was charmed and touched by this handsome man with seemingly no 'red in his ledger'.

His absent thoughts led back to Darcy, who was, no doubt, drowning in a sea of Jane's tears in the medical wing. Darcy Lewis had been caught in between his and Forseti's quarrel; a victim of circumstance. Mortals were fragile. He knew this from past experience, but female mortals even more so (with an exception to a few, namely, the red haired assassin Romanoff). No wonder his brother had felt the need to protect Jane whilst she was still mortal. But she was Aesir now, no longer a mortal that could wither and die of old age… or poison.

Loki stopped his pacing and gasped softly. Of course.

* * *

Idunn stared at the broken but beautiful prince with the black hair, whose green eyes were staring determinately into hers. Idunn was striking, a slender, graceful work of art with no imperfections. Her long golden hair, braided back in an elaborate plait, ruffled in the breeze that blew her long dress ghostly about her. He had transported here in an instant, leaving Idunn bewildered at his sudden arrival. They stood in an opening surrounded by tall fruit trees. In the distance, Loki could see the towering spires of Asgard through the branches. He liked the feel of grass beneath his feet, and the smell of the forest around him. It was nice to be outside his cell.

Idunn folded her arms gracefully. "I do not _owe_ you anything, Loki Laufeyson."

"Then I should have left you with Thiazi." He said lightly.

"What is it you require? Make it brief." The golden woman asked, resignation colouring her tone.

"An Apple. A single Apple."

"Darcy Lewis' comatose state may not be changed by this."

Loki didn't ask how she knew why he needed it.

"It is a possibility." He admitted. "But I would like to try."

"She may become Aesir."

Loki paused. "Better than dead."

"And so you think because I granted Jane Foster an Apple, I will grant her friend one too?"

He looked at her with a tired seriousness, sick of her questions. "That is all I ask."

Idunn looked amused and laughed musically. "Is this the moment you profess your fondness for mortal women?"

Loki scowled. "I preferred you as a nut. Will you grant me my request or am I to go away empty handed?"

"Everyone knows that, for an Apple, there is a price." Idunn's amused glance was met with an intense stare.

"Name it."

* * *

**A/N- Okay, as I said, I went into Norse Mythology territory. Background reading! The facts (for those interested/ who haven't/won't/can't be bothered to google it) are these:**

**Forseti is Baldr and Nanna's son (Baldr being Frigga and Odin's son)**

**Loki (in mythology) **_**did**_** kill Baldr by shooting an arrow of mistletoe at him. Basically, Baldr had some weird prophetic dreams(involving him dying) that caused Frigga, his mother, to make a deal that made him unkillable. She had asked every object vow not to kill him, but didn't make a deal with mistletoe (too young, unimportant to make a vow). So Loki gave an arrow of it to Baldr's blind brother, who shot him, and Baldr died. **

**Note: I'm sticking to the whole 'Loki is innocent' thing in this story though!**

**Idunn is the goddess of youth, and ensures that everyone in Asgard stays pretty and young and tall and handsome and charming… oops. Anyway, she was taken by Loki (who was forced by a Jotuun, Thiazi) and everyone in Asgard started aging. So Loki, fixing his problems, flies in there as a falcon, turns her into a nut (Yeah, a nut. An actual nut nut.) and rescues her. So there was my explanation to Thiazi, and to the nut reference in the last bit!**

**So. Hope I got everything correct for you Norse Mythology buffs out there- most *cough* (all) my info came from Wikipedia. It's pretty interesting!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- **Guys, I am so unbelievably sorry about leaving it this long between updates, I know it's the worst! I've been so busy recently and had so many stupid problems that I've neglected writing (and everything else), and I kinda fell out of the story (and life) for a bit… So again, sorry! It's also short, but I have juicy, long chapters coming up! :)

And I know I always say this, but thanks to everyone of you patient stars who have favourited, followed or reviewed this- I wouldn't keep updating if I didn't have you guys as encouragement! I haven't had time to get back to your reviews, too, but just making sure you know you're awesome and I love reading them!

* * *

**Chapter 9 **

Loki walked back from Idunn's orchard in deep contemplation, his fingers curled around the vial of apple juice in his hand. Idunn had kindly transformed it into a substance that Darcy could consume in her state and left instructions on how it should be administered. The walk back had taken him around two hours on foot, and the sun had barely gone down when he had left the orchard. He liked the time to himself. It had always been like that. He had read the books, done the theory, whilst his brother had preferred a more physical method. In the past, anyway.

The walk from Idunn's was cathartic to say the least, and when he returned to the castle, he thought about confiding in his brother, maybe having a long talk to find some common ground between the two of them. The brother he had hated and left behind was an immature fool who had come back from Midgard wise and thoughtful. Maybe the change could trigger some sort of mutual interest between them. He wasn't overly repulsive at his wedding, and Loki began to be indifferent to his brother's presence.

He shook his thoughts away and made his way back to Darcy's bedside. He crept in like a thief, not wanting to be seen or heard. It didn't matter in the end, as Darcy's bedside was empty. Jane must've gone to sleep- it was quite late and the castle corridors were mostly empty. He scowled at the thought of Jane not staying with her, especially since she was vulnerable. He took care as he filled a syringe with the liquid (his books on Midgardian medicine came in useful with dealing with these foreign objects in the end) and injected it, watching it flow through the clear tubes.

He did this three times, until the vial was drained. Silently, he leant over her, staring as if confused by her closed eyes and relaxed expression. It wasn't the Darcy he had been told of, it wasn't the Darcy he'd experienced here. She'd always been on edge, ready to argue with a snarky attitude.

He hesitated slightly before he gently brushed back her hair and planted a small, cautious kiss on her forehead. He drew back, looking around the empty hall as if someone was watching. When he saw no one, he resumed his post by her bedside and took her hand, fighting heavy eyelids through lack of sleep. Her soft skin was cold, unlike the warmth of life he had felt when he had danced with her, or slept beside her. She practically radiated heat and life, but this Darcy was strangely cold.

"I hope this will work, for both our sakes." He mumbled under his breath, looking at her intently. Sat down beside her again, he waited.

* * *

Jane arrived in the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep for longer than a few hours and found Loki at Darcy's bedside. Again. She would have been annoyed if not for the fact he was fast asleep, his long fingers curled around Darcy's. She looked at Loki again, feeling a flower of confusion and curiosity unfurl. He shared Darcy's pillow, his slender body slumped sideways, his upper half curled up on Darcy's bed. She felt uneasy as she walked up to him, seeing his childlike expression, relaxed, without a hint of malice.

Maybe this was what Thor saw in his brother when he defended him; the naive innocence he displayed when he was vulnerable. Still, Jane made her footsteps heavy and loud as she approached, finding this version of Loki unsettling and confusing.

He woke with a start when he heard her footsteps. Jane saw his fingers tighten against Darcy's before he quickly let go and sat up. He looked at Darcy quickly with anticipation that slowly turned to a tired expression. Loki sighed. If she were to wake up, it would probably have happened by now. He wondered whether the deal would be void if it didn't awaken Darcy. Suddenly he felt angry at Idunn, and wanted nothing but to be alone, not in the presence of Jane of all people. If Darcy was truly lost, it was not worth him investing emotionally any more. A waste of his seemingly finite resources, apparently. Plus, Forseti would get what he wanted: grief over a mortal's passing and a set of suspicions to go with it. He thought it was about time he disconnected again.

"Lady Jane." He said, reluctantly charming, straightening himself up in the chair beside Darcy's bed.

"What are you doing here again?"

Loki glared at her. She was still rude, despite his best intention to stay pleasant. He didn't blame her, if he was truly honest. Which he would never be. "Leaving."

Jane scowled, finding nothing to say to him. She knew he wouldn't answer anyway. She wanted to ask him what was going on with Darcy- why did he hang around her, even going so far as to hold her hand and act like he cared? Was it a guilty conscience? But she knew she'd never get straight answers, and Loki would just get angry and defensive, as always. Still, she found herself calling his name.

"Loki!"

Loki disappeared in a second, ignoring her shout.

"Great." She sighed, looking at the back of the willowy figure leaving the room. She stared at the empty hall, and the door which had just closed behind Loki. With a resigned look, she sunk into the worn wooden chair by Darcy's bedside that Loki had just vacated.

Outside the hospital wing, Loki found himself faced with a wall of Asgardian soldiers, poised to attack, their golden spears pointed at his throat. Though he knew exactly why they were there, he wanted to use his voice whilst he still could. A panic rose in him when he thought of his dark cell, but he swallowed it down, regaining his calm and collected self.

"What is the meaning of this?" His voice echoed down the hallway as he looked across at the bright rays of sun between the stone columns. He realised it would probably be a long time until he saw the sun again, and wished he had stayed at Darcy's side a little longer.

The wall of soldiers parted, and a man he had never seen before stepped forward. He seemed unafraid under the menacing stare Loki was giving him. His voice didn't falter.

"Loki Laufeyson. You are required to return to your prison cell by order of the King of Asgard and his High Council immediately. Any attempt to fight or escape will result in your death. Do you understand?"

"Laufeyson." He scoffed quietly, a brief blanket of sadness covering his anger. He looked down at his crumpled clothing underneath golden armour, down at the stone beneath his feet. His sadness was gone in a second, and Loki met the gaze of the man before him with a dead stare. He knew he should ask for a trial, but after all he'd done in the past, he doubted he was entitled to one. Guilty until proven innocent in his case.

"I understand." He said tiredly.

* * *

Thor strode into the hospital wing for the fifth time this week to find his wife asleep by Darcy's side.

He noticed that Jane had barely slept in their new quarters, and when they talked, Jane's voice was coloured with a constant sadness. She didn't eat or drink as much as she used to (not that she needed to consume as much as she did). He sighed, striving to do something to make her happiness return again. He knew grief as well as the next person, and his thoughts flicked briefly to Loki and his silent journey to the dark cells below the castle, where he waited.

He had just been to the Allfather to plead for Loki's freedom alongside his mother's pleas, and launch some sort of investigation into Darcy's poisoning, but his father seemed preoccupied with 'trouble in other realms' that took priority. Thor loved his father dearly, but he couldn't help feel a little confused at his lack of compassion toward the matter. But he usually found these thoughts led to sympathy for Loki, which he tucked away cautiously, knowing it was dangerous territory.

Brushing away thoughts of his brother and father, he looked down at Jane's awkward sleeping position. Silently, he scooped Jane up effortlessly from the chair, feeling her stir in his arms. It was about time she slept in a real bed rather than hunching over a hospital bed, he thought. Jane eventually warmed to her place in his arms and brushed her cheek against the cold metal of his armour with what seemed like a happy sigh. He bowed his head, kissing the top of her head softly. His lips curved into a sad smile as he looked back at Darcy's empty bedside.

"Forgive me Darcy."

* * *

Darcy's eyelids flickered open with a start. She was alone. Her eyes widened in panic when she felt the foreign tubes in her body, the IV in her arm. She screwed her eyes shut again, the bright light stinging painfully. But it felt familiar, the mattress beneath her, the warm breeze rustling her bed sheets, much like the desert wind of Puente Antiguo. Maybe she was back home, she thought with relief. She felt someone come to her side, the soft patter of frantic footsteps at her right.

"There's no place like home," she managed to mutter before she felt a dizziness overcome her. She felt warm hands on her skin, then nothing at all.


End file.
